The Heart In The Sand

The bus wove in and out of traffic on the street. It was going fast despite the slightly transparent fog the air. It moistened the air in the early morning light. I had moved near the ocean beach lately. It was mid September and the fog seemed to be like a that seemed to be like a cloud that had moved in from the ocean at the beach. After any number of stops to pick up and let out people, the bus had finally arrived at the beach. I left the bus at one of the stops, and walked to a street laden with apartment buildings. The street ended front the beach. I began to walk towards the end of the street. There was a staircase leading down to the beach. I started to go down the staircase, holding tightly to the rail on the side of the staircase. At the of the staircase was a sandy beach. After a few more steps I reached a sidewalk. As I stood on the sidewalk I saw a dark figure of a man through the fog in the distance. The dark figure was of a well built man. He was slowly his way towards me. The hero was an old man and he was carrying a walking stick in his hand, which he occasionally poked at the ground as he walked along. The figure was ominous and appeared to be growing larger as it approached me. Soon he was standing in front of me, then stopped and wished me a good morning, despite the white fog in the morning air. I answered him in a like response. He said his name was Gene. Then he started to explain that he parked his car above another staircase which was several staircases over and walked down to the beach. He then asked if I would walk with him to the ocean waves coming over the wet sand. How do get there, I asked him. Over the sand he responded to me. We started walking over the sand to the waves crashing the shore. The sand scuffled under our feet as we walked. We walked until we were standing at the edge of the wet sand. He began drawing something in wet sand. It was a heart shape in the sand.