5 Highball Exit
“By six o’clock on Monday morning I called it quits and went for a run on the beach. The crimson sky was opening like a flower above me and tiny birds ran ahead of me in the foam at the edge of the surf. Except for the brash call of gulls and the lap of waves, the beach was quiet, not another human in sight. The saltladen air was more of a caress than the heavy blanket of heat and humidity it would be later in the day.
The tide was out. The broad, hard-packed sand at the edge of the waves was perfect to run on, although it turned out to be a lot more like a bit of running with a lot of puffing and walking in between. It didn’t matter. I was in the place I loved best. I focused on the soft squish of my trainers in the sand, letting the rhythm hypnotize me into the moment.
By the time I got back to the cottage I was sweating and exhausted. I turned on the radio while I drank the last of the orange juice from the carton. The weatherman predicted another scorcher and talked about a... tropical storm headed our way from Africa.MoreLess
The tide was out. The broad, hard-packed sand at the edge of the waves was perfect to run on, although it turned out to be a lot more like a bit of running with a lot of puffing and walking in between. It didn’t matter. I was in the place I loved best. I focused on the soft squish of my trainers in the sand, letting the rhythm hypnotize me into the moment.
By the time I got back to the cottage I was sweating and exhausted. I turned on the radio while I drank the last of the orange juice from the carton. The weatherman predicted another scorcher and talked about a... tropical storm headed our way from Africa.MoreLess
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