Painting

Painting

25 June 2014

Lawrence of Arabia

After many tens of seconds of slog, sweating freely as we struggled through the blinding white sand, our goal finally appeared before us. Exhausted, befuddled, addled even, we clambered down to the azure sea, slipping as the sand gave way beneath us. How long had we perambulated under that blazing sun? Three, maybe four minutes. Certainly no more than four-and-a-half. It was a miracle that we had survived so long, weighed down by fold-up ASDA chairs and a bag of beach paraphernalia, but we'd done just that. It was as much as we could do to seek out a favourable spot and set up the chairs, flopping into them, bereft of energy. Tough times indeed. 



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