Then he realizes that “here”, in an exact sense, keeps changing. He hasn’t stopped walking. Even when he turned to see where he’d come from, his feet kept moving further along the beach.

He stops.

Take a deep breath. Get yourself together.

There aren’t many people out here with him. A few older folks in their rain gear. There’s a guy tossing a bright orange toy to his dog, a labrador. Other than that – and him, of course – the beach is empty.

He sits down in the sand, indian style, and rests his forearms on his knees. It’s cold. Certainly not beach weather. And it’s early. At least it seems early. The sun is shining, but its rays have to push their way through the cottony clouds delivering that misty rain.

What in the hell happened?

He closes his eyes, trying to remember how he had gotten to the beach. A beach he’s never seen before, let alone one that he’s actually been to before today.

What day is it anyway?

But nothing comes. His eyes squint, forcing himself to remember.


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