Back to the Beach

At long last he was back on the beach! The first thing Hyperion noted was that it was a wreck. There was trash from the party everywhere. Literally everywhere. Bottles, and jars, glass shards and clay shards, and burned out remnants of fires ringed with stones and shells and whatever else the drunks threw together to make a pit. It was a bit sad, really. Like looking at the bones of a carcass picked cleaned by scavengers and left to rot.

As he was becoming accustomed to doing, Hyperion glanced up at the sky to take stock of the weather. This day had teetered on bad weather and it was a toss up as to whether or not more clouds would race in and douse them suddenly. For now at least it looked clear. There was just one skinny cloud floating all by its lonesome up there. The rest was blue and cheery and sunny, which meant the black sand of the beach glittered blindingly. The night had gotten a bit hazy. He couldn't remember if the sand had been that bright before the sunset or if he'd just not noticed since his mind was elsewhere.

To Shilah, he said, "Hm. Well it looks like my people aren't here after all." He could see pretty far in both directions and as far as he could tell there was no one round for miles unless they were hiding in the shrubbery up on the dunes.