Sixty seconds and one word. That word? Beach
Every couple of steps, she drags her toes across the hard-pack sand, on the outer edge from where the waves could erase everything in one foamy lick. She walks toe-heel, toe-heel, so the tracks look more animal than human. The long pauses from the drag marks adds mystery, she thinks. She turns, looks at her progress. There’s gaps in her path, breaks where water has returned the sand to an open canvas.
“This is my life,” she says, swinging her arms above her head as she twirls in place, creating a post-modern abstract on the beach.