“Hey! At the bottom of the cliff to the right. What do you think this is?”
Lisa adjusted the focus on her binoculars. “Can’t tell. A bit of junk?”
They were supposed to be cataloguing the different bird species they could find along their stretch of beach, but the seagulls were tiresome, and the sandpipers were too fast, and the wind had whipped so much sand around that she would certainly be carrying another pound of it just in her hair. Lisa wanted to go home. She wanted a nice bath, dry clothes, and a hot cup of tea.
“Perhaps a miners’ rail box.” Deena, binoculars glued to her face and hair tucked under a maddeningly practical cap, seemed oblivious to the stinging sand or Lisa’s rumbling stomach.
“Not a bird,” Lisa tried.
“No, but sure is a mystery!” Deena rose and pointed at the narrow trail. “Let’s go investigate!”
For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge