A man sits at an outside table, a pint of lager keeping him company. He looks sad, deep in thought. Maybe he isn't sad, maybe he is just contemplating life, the universe, a new job, a job far away from here. Maybe he has never been good at handling change, many people aren't, but a pint and some precious solitude are doing him a world of good.
Some surfers walk past on their way back from the beach, a black Labrador trotting after them. The tide is in, a toddler paddles in the shallows with her father. A yacht sails out of the harbour, it symbolises something, something he understands, freedom perhaps, or escape. Two men sit in a dinghy fishing, all you can hear is the wind, the rattling of rigging and the cry of sea birds. He'll miss this place.
He pops into the shop to get some essentials. An elderly couple blockade the basket pile, preventing all access while they debate about who carries what. Emerging from the shop he nearly gets knocked down by some imbecilic pavement-cyclist. He gives the fool a piece of his mind. As he walks away he smiles ruefully, some things will never change.
A helping hand, ca. 1910s
3 hours ago