Retreating

It was Thursday. She was sitting on the beach watching the soldier crabs marching backwards and forwards in front of her, busy doing whatever soldier crabs do. Busy in a way she definitely wasn’t.

In the distance she could hear the rumbling hum of traffic as it crossed the Hornibrook bridge, the wailing of an ambulance, getting closer, heading for the hospital behind her at a guess. The sounds of suburbia, people going about their business, for some perhaps, their day not turning out quite as planned.

It was early Spring and the sun was warm as was the sand she sat upon. Her feet were bare and she was burrowing them in and under … feeling the grit of the sand exfoliating her skin. Vaguely concerned with putting her shoes back on over sandy feet and how annoying that was going to be. More concerned about returning to her dreary office and having to scrape around for meaningful tasks to soldier on with.

There was a bright shining beacon of light in her day however. The job she’d been waiting on for months now had finally been confirmed. The start date was yet to be determined but it would be within the month and she could finally leave this place that had caused her so much frustration and angst. She was already counting down the days, the hours, hoping they’d let her leave earlier than the contract notice period stipulated. After all what did she have to do? They really couldn’t make her stay but it wasn’t in her character to let anyone down. There was little left to achieve in a role that wasn’t required, really shouldn’t exist and only did because of the incompetence of others.

She likened the dynamic (or lack thereof) of this organisation to that of a dysfunctional family. Individually ok but collectively there was no harmony or cohesion – they just couldn’t quite get on to achieve a common goal. Unlike the soldier crabs … still marching, all in the same direction working as a unit. But now she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully only one more week. Five more days, 37.5 more hours … maybe less with any luck at all.

The tide was coming in and perhaps the crab unit had completed their preparations for the event as they had scurried off now, retreated from their tasks and were nowhere to be seen. A seagull landed and eyed her hopefully, waiting for some food scraps to come flying his way. “Sorry mate” she said aloud. He looked disgusted and put on a show of scratching up the sand and strutting around in a few circles defiantly before giving a shriek and flying off into the wind to continue his seagull day. She coveted his freedom. His ability to just go where the wind blew him.

The wind was now picking up and with it she could see a few darker clouds building up over the bay that looked heavy with rain. This was her cue to head back to the office and find something to do. She stood and sighed and took a deep breath of the fresh sea air. The end was nigh and her days of boredom would soon be over. Ironically she would miss this view, having the beach on her doorstep. But it was the only thing she would miss.

She dusted off the sand and put her newly exfoliated feet back in her shoes, took one last fleeting look of the view down the beach and retreated, like the soldier crabs, back to her office.