Had I known anyone was watching I would have curbed my flailing, but as far as I was concerned the crab and the squawking seagulls were my only companions.
With a glacier for a leg and a mind clouded with anger I picked up the first loose stone I could see to throw at the ocean with every mite of my strength (it fell short of the mocking waves by some distance). Finally, my energy spent, I sat down hard upon a rock beside the cursed pool and threw a dirty look at the crab whose beady eyes were full of laughter, I’m sure.
I wonder if it was the bout of rage that cleared my mind of clutter, or the lack of any further destination which left me open to my surroundings. Perhaps it was the seagull circling lower that brought my attention to its prey on the ground, or a passing cloud that left a shadow for my eye to follow to see a small man standing, looking in astonishment at the open sky. Whatever the cause, in that time-frozen moment, I found myself staring at a human in miniature, the height of a small sausage. I blinked. The man remained. I followed his gaze to the sky and back to his miniature face. He remained. Finally he turned to look at me, and despite the distance between us and the difficulty in seeing his tiny frame, I was sure he shook his head.