For miles ahead there was only beach, for miles behind - beach. To my left miles of deep blue ocean, crested with shimmering white jewels as the breakers folded into the shallows. To the right, the antiquate feeling shore line: palms freely waving in the gentle breeze, dune-grass cropping up along the fences separating the shore from the hotels lining the road. Above me, teal sky peppered with dusty white clouds. Below me, soft, wet sand, rinsed carefully by the rising tide. I ran along the shore where the ocean meets the land. There is a strip of packed wet sand there, it is good for running on. Here and there I strayed into the surf. The cool water poured over my ankles, down into my shoes and quenched the thirst of my feet, warmed from the constant strike of my stride. I went some way, then turned and overran my previous trail. I cannot say how far I ran - it is difficult to judge the distance there; all of the landmark-hotels started looking the same at dusk: sillouets against the golden-orange sunset. Still I found my way...exhausted, but invigorated, I strolled slowly back to my room.
