“Come and find us” shrilled the voice. “We’re on the beach.

The sand is so warm and

lovely Daddy!” “I’m coming!”, he called, scrambling through the trees and over the
uneven ground. This close to the beach the ground was sandy and unstable. “Don’t
build any sand castles without me!” he yelled, almost tripping but quickly recovered
his balance. “Come on Daddy, hurry up!” came the voice again, this time slightly
louder. “Yeah Daddy! You’re SOOOOO slow!” came a second voice. “Give me a
minute, I’m a bit… out of.. breath…” He emerged at the edge of the wood,
overlooking the beach. On either side were two large, jagged boulders, obscuring
most of the beach except for a thin slice, perfectly framed between them. He sat
down heavily, trying to get hit breath back for a minute, before carrying on with
today's adventures. Where on earth did they get all their energy from, he wondered
to himself. At that age it was like sunlight itself was enough to get them up and
running for at least 5 hours straight. He checked his watch. 6:30. They had another
couple of hours before the tide came in. By then it would be their bedtime anyway,
so might as well tire them out before we go back to the cottage. He dangled his legs
over the sandy outcrop and looked out between the boulders. As he breathed heavily
through his mouth, he couldn’t help but feel happy. Here he was, on holiday, the
same holiday they’d been on every year since Sarah had been born. He had two
healthy children, a loving wife who was no doubt preparing a hearty supper for when
they returned. It was like heaven. Well, almost. If he thought about his heaven long
enough he didn’t have to let his mind wander back to the IV drip that was inevitably
waiting for him back at home. Or the fat nurse who always put a bit less sugar than
he liked in his tea. Or the seemingly never-ending amount of bills that had to be
payed. Or Simon… No, he told himself. Not today, not now. Think only of your slice
of heaven, perfectly framed between those two boulders in front of you. And of your
two children of course. He could hear them giggling and laughing off to his left
somewhere, no doubt splashing each other silly or deeply involved in some sort of
childish game. He looked over the rump of his belly at his two feet, dangling
carelessly in the air. Although the ground was maybe only a metre beneath them, he
wondered if he would be able to make it down fully intact. Last week he had hurt
himself walking down a flight of stairs! It was ridiculous, he thought, how once he
would have jumped down this small gap as though it were nothing, probably not
even noticing it was there. And now it seemed almost ravenous, as though the gap
were not one metre but twenty metres at least. He twisted round on the sandy ledge
and looked for something to grab hold of. A root, large and twisted seemed to be the
only thing that looked capable of holding his weight. He grabbed it with his left hand
and winced slightly as he pulled something a little too far in his elbow. His mind
conjured up an image of an intrepid explorer, ready to lower themselves down into
an unknown gorge or ravine. ​Well, boys, if I don’t make it back alive, tell the Mrs she
was a jolly sweet thing and her steamed sponge pudding will be sorely missed, ​the
explorer said to his support team. He chuckled slightly at this, imagining a spindly,
hairy man with a black moustache lowering himself slowly. He managed to swoosh
his body round so he was lying on his back. Reaching out with his right hand, he
found what felt like a secure mound which he could grip. It occured to him that any
bird watchers