i wasn't looking for it.
it was one of those grey scottish days when the wind slices
like a knife.
an ... omg, it's too cold to breath kind of day, a day when
sensible people stay home and dream of spain and sunshine.
leaving the daft few to fight their way along the sea front,
buffeted from every direction by angry, ice cold air.
i had grabbed my old jacket from the cupboard at the bottom of
the stairs.
as i rounded the corner from the main street into shore road, i
thrust my cold hands deep into my pockets in search of
protection from the wandering tendrils of the icy blast.
and there it was.
right at the bottom of a deep pocket, in with the fluff and
beach sand and a forgotten piece of gum. rattling around with
a couple of loose pennies and a once, beautiful when wet, pebble.
what can i say ... i was surprised.
after all, it would not have been the first place i expected
to find such a treasure.
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