He’d survived it all, and more. He’d taken every hellish thing life had thrown at him and here he was, under blue skies with sand between his toes.
Alf limped back from the café, two ice-cream cones in his good hand. That he was simply here was enough, one marvel among many.
They sat on a rock and ate the cones, the sun warm on their backs. Seagulls wheeled and cried, kids played in the tumbling surf.
They didn’t talk, they didn’t need to. A feeling of immense calm suffused Carl. Sometimes life really could be a beach.
No. 27 in the ‘Beyond the Streets‘ sequence – a series of 100-word flash fiction.