The Writers' Circle

Mrs Wayne contentedly sat on the beach, she loved the feel of the sand as she rubbed her feet fiercely on the ground. She could see the sun out of the corner of her eye, the burning menace prowling her, waiting for her to let her guard down and induce a migraine. Not her though, she was well protected, two pairs of sunglasses ensured that everything she looked at had a nice dull edge to it. She looked down at the waves their tenacity was admirable. Such effort to move only slightly up the beach. She was looking forward to the next 30mins when the outer most reaches of the waves would lap her feet.  Ahead of her the small pebbles were being pushed up the beach only to be dragged back again by the back wash. She loved the noise and repetitive nature, no matter what else was going on in the world this would continue.  One glorious white pebble was thrown up in front of her and it mesmerized her. She found herself up and off her feet diving forward to grab it as the back wash was threatening to remove it from her life forever. Now it was hers, it felt so smooth and so cold. She took off her two pairs of glasses to get a better look. As she did, the white stone spat the suns reflection in her eyes. Her brain exploded and she dropped the pebble back onto the beach. The waves recaptured the stone for the sea and she was glad to see the back of it. It seems the sun had played her for a fool. Collecting her belongings up, stuffing her beach mat into her large hold all she threw it over her shoulder and made for home.