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A Day at the Beach
Sitting on a wavy, white, sandy beach; he has a puzzling look of bewilderment on his face. The man is wearing a suit; a rumpled blue shirt with a tie that ends a few inches above his navel. He has on maroon socks that are matching the style and image of his suit. The tie is of a striped blue and white pattern which is running in a horizontal angle. On his wrist is a cheap and aged black watch.
The man has dark bushy hair which is unkempt and wavy. The wind is blowing on the beach and has caused it become very messy while he is sitting there. He is wearing black horn rimmed glass and has an appearance of bewilderment or indifference on his face. The event is taking place in the late afternoon with a dark shadow hanging over his left side (in between himself and the box). The box appears to be in an old case that is wrinkled and worn. There is a dark, tan colored zipper on the side (which is closed all the way up). He keeps it closely to him.
As children run gleefully around him, the man stares out into the sea. His eyes are dark and empty, his eyebrows droop as if to block his vision. His eyes flit, catching glimpses of the activity around him. Then he struggles to bring his focus back to the sea as if there was something there waiting for him. Occasionally, he grasps the box tighter as his fingers slip from the sweat accumulating underneath.
The box has laid beside him the entire time. He thinks of slipping it inside his jacket, but he decides otherwise remembering how tight the suit fits on him. For a moment he considers some other way to secure it closer to his person. It never occurs to him to place it in his lap. It remains by his side and his eyes never wander to it.
His brow wrinkles as a cool draft covers the beach. His nose twitches as bits of sand run over his face. A bird flies overhead and he wearily covers his eyes as he looks up at the bird. Flies continue to dart in and out of his visage and he gives up swatting up some cursory attempts to shoo them away. A fly lands on his forehead, now covered in large beads of sweat. His forehead is pale as is most of his face.
Suddenly a young boy runs up to the man. He covers his eyes and looks down at him. The man looks up shading his eyes from the sun as well. The boy points to the box. For a moment the man thinks he is pointing at his watch. Then he realizes he is pointing at the box. He eyes widen a bit and a brief, but sure glimpse of horror runs across his face. Something begins to dawn on the boy; a glimmer of comprehension mixed with apprehension. All children are afraid of the unknown, the incongruent and this boy is no different. He darts off to the safety of his friends’ game.
The man breathes a sigh of relief and for a moment feels a strange, pleasant sensation.
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