flash fiction BOGOF Thursday!

Over here.

You see the brindled grey sea, and the wind-rippled dunes. High and far away a lone gull wheels and disappears. Wan cloud curtains the insipid sunshine. Far down on the strand a man is walking. His fair hair is flapping up in the wind like a wing, and he's got this red scarf, looping free. You want to shout, to wave, but the tape still covers your mouth, and the handcuffs bite deep. He turns.