The Beach

There’s nothing nicer than taking a late evening walk down the promenade along the finest stretch of sandy beach in England. What beats watching the sun set, disappearing beneath the horizon, turning the sea into a gently rippling sheet of sparkling diamonds. You can feel the cool evening breeze on your skin, blowing away your cares.

The delightful sound of flocks of seagulls fighting over the several tons of litter that day trippers have left on the beach. The skanks and drop outs brazenly rolling up joints and shooting up on benches. The overpowering stench on excrement and urine leeching out from behind the beach huts, because despite opening the car parks and beachfront shops, the council refuse to open up the toilets.

I preferred lockdown.