[[Thursday morning.]]
A fine mist lingered above the sea, reluctant to leave its night time retreat.
The early morning chill had driven people back into their beds.
The beach is empty, save for you and your
-[[Labradour]]
-[[Terrier]]
-[[German Shepard]]
-[[Pug]]
-[[Beagle]]
His golden fur drips as he splashes among the waves, searching for the driftwood stick you've thrown for him.
[[You turn away from your faithful companion, examing the stones and shells beneath your feet.->Examine ground]]
His short legs struggle to leap abpove the waves as he searches for the driftwood stick you've thrown for him.
[[You turn away from your faithful companion, examing the stones and shells beneath your feet.->Examine ground]]
He strides powerfully amongst the waves, searching for the driftwood stick you've thrown for him.
[[You turn away from your faithful companion, examing the stones and shells beneath your feet.->Examine ground]]
He struggles to stay above the waves, instead searching for the driftwood stick you've thrown for him from the safety of the shore.
[[You turn away from your faithful companion, examing the stones and shells beneath your feet.->Examine ground]]
He leaps playfully amongst the waves, searching for the driftwood stick you've thrown for him.
[[You turn away from your faithful companion, examing the stones and shells beneath your feet.->Examine ground]]
You pushed them around with the toe of your boot, digging up stubborn stones that refused to budge beneath your foot.
[[A glimmer]]
One rock catches your attention.
It has a curious sheen about it; a copper gleam that somehow seemed to reflect the pale, [[clouded light]] of the morning sun as if it were a blazing summer day.
[[Pry it loose]]
It was a cold morning.
You had meant to take out the gloves that you kept in a “winter bag” that lay squashed at the back of your closet.
You had meant to take them out two weeks ago, at the beginning of November.
It was only when you were out at the beach, your hands turning red with the cold, that the thought of those gloves passed your mind.
[[The glimmer beckons->A glimmer]]
You pinched The Rock between your thumb and index finger.
A drop of water slowly [[trickles down your arm]]
You examine it [[closely]]
It tickles your skin as it makes its way down your sleeve.
[[You quickly forget about it->Pry it loose]]
It was small, barely the length of your palm, and about half as wide.
Various pores and notches dotted its surface.
(if: (history:) contains "Labradour")[You hear your dog let out a deep bark, frustrated over losing the stick.](if: (history:) contains "German Shepard")[You hear your dog let out a deep bark, frustrated over losing the stick.](if: (history:) contains "Beagle")[You hear your dog let out a deep bark, frustrated over losing the stick.](if: (history:) contains "Terrier")[You hear your dog let out a high pitched bark, frustrated over losing the stick.](if: (history:) contains "Pug")[You hear your dog let out a wheezy bark, frustrated over losing the stick.]
The rock is [[mesmerising]].
More vivid than any of its grey brethren found on the sand beneath your feet, you can't help staring at it.
Your hands are quite [[damp]].
They shouldn't be.
You were far enough away from the surf to avoid its splash.
It wasn't raining, despite the threateningly dark clouds you spotted in the distance.
Why were your hands [[wet]]?
The water was coming from The Rock.
In fact, it was //pouring// from it.