And with that he was gone, back over the side, lost to view in seconds, the sounds of his progress fading until all I could hear was the surf below.
I looked down, where I had squeezed all the spicy fillings for my sandwich into a wet mess in my lap.
~ ~ ~
When your work hours are seven to seven it’s hard to find time to get away from the job. I found buying a sandwich, a soda and sitting at the view point to watch the sun sink into the sea a relaxing way to end the day.
Not any more. He just ruined it. Unless the top is up and the doors are locked. Maybe a pit bull in the back seat.