100 Word Story

His favourite beaches stretched forever, had waves that crashed at unpredictable intervals and sand that oozed between toes when you strode bare-foot along that wonderful interface of sand and water having realised that those chinos had simply not been rolled high enough. His favourite stones were flat, palm-sized and did a perfect seven strides when skimmed quickly across the bizarrely flat water between the crashes. His favourite walkers shared a word, a smile and self-evidently they too were each in their own universe. His favourite thoughts stretched forever, were unpredictable, often came in sevens and had rarely been rolled enough.