And it's cold. Oh so cold.
You can smell the sea salt and the breeze whips against your face; something bound to make your skin brittle later on.
And the ocean seems to go on and on and never end. All you can see is a deep blue blanket as water as far as the eye can see, with white peaks moving in a sequence, rocking with the tides.
It's beautiful, really.
But you're still cold. You hadn't thought far enough ahead to bring a jacket. Or a hat. Or even mittens.
So you scan the beach behind you, stepping away from the water's edge.There is a dilapidated little shack on one end of the beach that does not look all too inviting, and a small rickety-looking boat is propped against the door.