Hours of fraught digging and frantic footsteps left the beach pockmarked and sullen. Exasperated he dropped from his haunches collapsing to the shore. A hollow moan slipped through his teeth escaping to the boundless horizon. Sharp grains scoured his cheeks as he pulled at the short remaining hairs that crowned his head, and rubbed his face. Eyes red from stress and fatigue he scanned over the craters he'd created praying for a glint of light to reflect off the lost keys.
Anxiety riddled breaths rattled in rhythm with the water. He counted backwards from ten to try to centre himself, pausing at four to survey the skyline. Another gorgeous sunset he couldn't enjoy. The keys to the safe misplaced. In their place a guillotine of trouble to follow in the morning. Far from secret in their search for reasons to severe him, this mistake would be handing his head on a platter to the new owners. The wasted work. The wasted years. Lost keys, a last straw, at a job he'd poured his heart into, a short breath away from his retirement.
If only he could find the damned things. If only there was more light in the day. If only his dear friend's children hadn't been so consumed with reckless greed when they sold their inherited business. Their mother would be rolling in her grave at the thought of such a callused corporation controlling the company she'd created. His friend he adored, his career he'd liked, he, was aghast. He shook his head at what he'd lost, and was losing now. The job had not only drained sweat from his brow, but stolen years. Years from his family, years from his dreams. At day's end too tired to pass out, only to wake forever exhausted. Finally an afternoon of indulgence, a family outing to a beach he never found time to visit. Now, an end to it all.
The increasing gravity of the situation sunk his hands deeper into the sands. With a lowered chin his gaze dropped downward to grains he'd searched over countless times. Old daydreams from his childhood bubbled to the surface. His imagination expanding in the micro, sand waves rippling across the beach transformed to dunes in the Sahara. His fingertips morphed to intrepid explorers, traversing ridges, skiing slops, plunging into sandy tombs.
The tip of his finger brushed something solid, and his heart froze. Too textured to be the lost keys, he retrieved a thin rusted chain, at the bottom a corroded pocket watch dangled. After a quick dusting he pried the faceplate open, exposing a cracked crystal spiderwebbing above the telling hands. Difficult to see through the splintered glass he held the oxidized time piece to his ear, and heard its heartbeat counting seconds.
He looked from the watch to the setting Sun, ‘if only i had been doing this instead, would that have been such an awful trade?’ In the glow of the dusk he felt ashamed at how rare he had looked up, or took pause to see the colours of the yawning day. To enjoy a few moments, no matter how fine or dull, rather than sweating numbers, ringing clients, in that dismal, suffocating office. If only he had found the time before. His fingertips ran across his cracked brow, he could feel his ticker hammer as he licked salt from his lips. All that garbage food, all the stress, only to end up withered and aged on a beach he never allowed himself to visit.
With a bit of difficulty he peeled his damp socks off, and indulged in burying his toes below the sand. Underneath the cooling surface he found the lingering warmth from the afternoon. Holding a handful, he poured sand grains to the breeze watching it spread across the shore as it wound across the coastline. A broken hour glass, a graveyard of stones and shells, mountains, and lives a like, a border between civilization the endless unknown. Rolling his wrist he wrapped the chain around himself, the watch sat scratchy and uncomfortable. For the first time he wondered if the monetary value of the watch could be worth as much as the profound moments enjoyed sitting with it.
Rolling his submerged toes he watched the surface dance and worried not about returning home, or of the following day to come. Storms across the ocean were inevitable, for now, all was calm, and the salty breeze comforting. Tomorrow would be troublesome, but tonight was pleasant, and he was in no rush to leave its glow.
Stars dotted the sky like tears to a cheek and he felt shame for how he'd been treating his sons. He regretted scolding them when they'd asked for surfboards. Dismayed by the self righteous way he felt justified, embarrassed how he’d thought he would be saving them from a squandered life. Now in the reflection of the cracked watch face in last light in the heavens, he realized he'd damned them to just that. A wasted life, away from the beauty of the beach, from hours in the Sun, and salty water. Moments of life traded for the prestige of promotions, regardless of the pittance, just like their old man. The day darkened further, and he could feel a questioning chill coming. How many summers did he have left? Before the truth of his foley came to light. Before he parted this world from his sons and family, from the Sun and Stars.
The top of the moon crested and he sighs turned to awe. The Sun would rise again tomorrow, and so would he. His gaze returned to unseeable hands of the watch, whether or not the hour was correct he knew it was getting late. He rose and walked towards the parking lot, not bothering to search further under the gift of moonlight. In what remained of the evening, he would find time for his family, for himself. He would find time to smile.