to a lost cove. A pint of Trelawny and some grilled sardines, then down to the beach. And gazing out to the sealine with my feet in the silky brine, I watched a dinghy come to shore. One of my oldest friends swung out from the landing melee and tiptoed across the pebbles, stopped and stared back, spooked as I by the chance encounter. Sweet and unexpected is this life.
