Published 'Mail Art - Wearwolf' 1996
The beach attendant had never known such a hot day.
If it were not for the latest skin cancer scare he would be working very hard indeed – and herds of sweaty folk spilling in and out of the regurgitated tides.
But then he stared at the mountainous piles of unopened deckchairs.
And smiled.
At least ghosts put them back even before they used them.
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