Little Black Book

It was just a normal Saturday morning at Palm Beach this particular day. I love waking up on Saturday mornings, feeling the ocean breeze flutter in from the beach. I love looking out at the emerald green blue waters splashing onto the shore of white sand. The colours are mesmerising. I get the opportunity on the weekends to really enjoy where I live and to embrace nature. There are some days if I gaze out to sea for long enough, I catch a glimpse some dolphins rejoicing in the warm waters filled with plenty of shiny fish for them to eat. It really is magnificent how nature is peaceful, yet it can be at times violent, yet somehow feeling at one with nature is something humans crave. This day, I took a wonderful morning walk up the beach with the sand squeaking between my toes. It was getting breezy, and in an instant my straw hat blew off, and the wind was running away with my hat like it was a small child with a kite! It blew up the beach and then twirled to land in some grasses in the sand dunes. Sand dunes are magnificent how they move and shape with the coastal breezes. The hat settled and waited for me to come retrieve it. Just as I was picking up my hat, I saw a piece of plastic bag peeking out of the sand. It disgusts me how people throw plastic away like that. I love my beach, so I always pick up any trash I see. I began to pull the plastic out of the sand, but it was really wedged in under the sand. After a little bit of digging, out popped the bag filled with some rubbish. Gross! I suddenly felt my adrenaline surge, my temples throbbing, my heart starting to race. I suddenly forgot the beauty before me. Was I being watched? Was it a booby trap? Is it fake? I mean who buries $20,000 in a sand dune? Oh my I felt giddy, I squashed the money inside my hat, and very quickly dashed home. It was real money after I examined it further. I counted it, it was $20,000. Do I keep it? Return it to the sand dunes? Hand it to the police? Post it on Facebook? Or does it become my dirty little secret? After all, I do need a little financial security. I do not think anyone saw me in those dunes. I wasn’t followed. I dashed to my bedroom, tucked the money into my old shoebox with valuables. I went to my bedside table, I swallowed hard, pulled open the bottom drawer, and dusted off my little black book. My little black book of dirty little secrets. I had to write this one down. I returned the book to its seedy position in the bottom drawer, and closed it with shameful glee. My Saturday was definitely not a normal one. Not at all. It was a day to remember. I think I will wear my clever hat again! Oh I love the beach!