Staring at the Sand

Staring at the Sand

One time, I was jogging along the beach, watching the sun rise on the already glowing horizon.  The brilliant yellows and purple-grays were almost as satisfying as the splashing of salt water between my bare toes.  I felt what was a sharp poke in the bottom of my foot, thought it to be a fish.  Was it a fish?

No, it was not a fish – it was a golden diamond ring.  I picked the ring up and noticed that it was a small one and slightly bent.  I kept it for a gift, and noticed a grungy envelope nearby.  I picked it up thinking I would throw it away; it fell apart and there was some cash in the note.  “Wow,” I thought, and I walked up on the beach to reconstruct and decipher the note.

Sitting upon a large dried out piece of driftwood, I was able to put the torn note back together. It was legible.  It said, “When you find this, whoever you may be, contribute to ‘The Parlor’.  Ask them if you can be of service.”  I thought about it.  I did not know what or who “The Parlor” was; I figured it out.  There was a road up the sandy hill.  Down the road was a small pizza parlor – I went in that direction.

I found the parlor and counted out the cash.  There was 19$.  I went to the register, noticing the only three tables in the place were pretty clean – especially for a restaurant on the beach.  I asked how much a large pepperoni pizza was, and the woman behind the register said, “We currently have a deal:  one large pepperoni pizza and a small coke for 11$.”

I paid her and gave her the ring. “I found it on the beach,” I said, “Maybe you can sell it, or give it to a youngster.”  “This ring is amazing,” she said.  “Is there anything I can do for you around here?” I asked.  “Well,” said the woman, “There is, however I do not know if you want to get your hands dirty.”  “I do not have to be back to work for another two days,” I said, “What can I do for you?”  “I have a lot of debris and broken things on the patio outback.  If you can haul that down to the waste pile for me, I will ask them to bake you a deep dish supreme pizza.  Afterwards, you can sweep off the patio.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said happily.  I was on vacation, but the woman seemed to be a nice person, and the pizza was a decent goal.  I paid, hauled away the broken debris, and she gave me a broom to sweep off the patio.  I swept it off and encouraged her to dine with me.  The woman’s shift ended at 2 PM, so we ate some of the big pizza then.  It was nice, and I made my way back.

pizza photo
cure song


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