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Shorts
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| Dreamtime | |
| By ellyb39 | ||||||||||||||
| 28 November 2006 | ||||||||||||||
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a short ramble along the beach Flashes of computer screens flicker through windows of offices as people shut down for the evening. Walking along the crowded street I can feel the tension of home time rush, no idle chatting, no daytime languor but purposeful steps towards stations, cars, bikes and home. I feel my back pack on my shoulders heavy and solid and in my minds eye I am already there, on the beach fishing rod in hand brain turned off. My stride is slowing already imagining the slurp of the surf on the beach, blotting out the cacophony of car horns, engines, taxi motors, the sheer roar of the city. It does not seem to take that long and the train journey is over. I change on the train ready for the night ahead. The car is waiting packed with warm soup, and fishing equipment and I see the headlights picking out the muddy corners of the road. Then I am here on the beach, the dusk has become night, the sea has become darkness. Yet still I can see a glimmer where beach meets water, a line of white froth, gradually appearing as my night vision improves. They think I am crazy in the office, fishing on the beach as a hobby, by now they are probably in the wine bar, the pub, home stretched out in front of the gas fire, easing off the too tight boot. My line is in the water and my lantern lit, now I can relax and feel the weekend begin. I remember as a child coming to this same beach, seeing the circus elephants being brought for their evening drink, what a surreal image that is. I think I must have dozed off for a moment because I don’t remember seeing him appear. Startled I realise he is gazing at me. How did he get so close to me along that big empty beach? ‘Hard day at the office?’ His eyes are glittering in the lamplight. He is crouching down close to me, I can see the lines around his eyes, magpie eyes, taking in everything about me. ‘Oh, yeah, must have fallen asleep’ I answer slightly disorientated. He leans back on his heels and chuckles. He starts to unwrap a back pack and take out a small gas stove, some meat, looks like steak, matches and a frying pan. ‘Well here’s supper, doesn’t look like you have caught it?’ ‘Not much biting tonight’ The smell of the steak is intoxicating and together we sip the wine I have brought. He produces a ready made salad and soon we are chomping on the steak. ‘Where is he then?’ I ask. ‘Over there , beach combing as usual’ With that a small shape appears dragging one foot behind him. He looks like a strange deformed dwarf but as he gets closer I can see the dogs lead tied to his foot and the dog some way behind. He is carrying a pile of driftwood which he brings over and drops beside me. ‘Mum look what I have found, Dad and I have been here ages , where were you?’ I draw him into my arms and feel his warm body lean into mine.
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