Tea Leaf.

Tea Leaf

I bought a sleeping bag, got a single ticket to Edinburgh and spent the night in a cemetery. The next day I took a train to Dunbar, payed for a hotel room, jerked off to "Dirty Dancing" then climbed out the window.

The sea was calling.

In a gully in the sand, i found a place to hide. The second night I was shocked awake by the tide coming in, it lifted me up sleeping bag and all. Wet and cocooned i rolled onto a nearby grassy mound, that swiftly became an island surrounded by the sea.

I began to wonder then if i could dig a hole in the sand, when the tide went out, way down, and wedge some sticks all in a row near the top. Would i be able to sleep on the sticks, and let the sea cascade into the pit beneath me.

Maybe i could begin life anew, here in my hole in the sand.

No.

The next night came, and i swam out as far as i could, wanting to drown but somehow ending up back on the beach.

Barefooted, scraggly, i bunked a train home to London, knowing by now they would have found the till empty.

For what?

I had thrown all the money away. Thinking it would never be needed again, and now, like my shoes, hundreds of pounds were waiting to be found either in the sand or lost forever at the bottom of the sea.