The Weekday One Hundred

I clawed at the gritty shoreline with both hands, cursing my luck. Of course, nothing to do with luck and everything to do with terrible choices.

I felt the icy ocean wash over my bare feet. My search was going nowhere. I frantically flung aside clumps of wet sand anyway.

She told me to bury my stash. We’d come get it later when everyone was gone. My crush… I would’ve walked on nails if she asked.

Another bone-chilling wave. The tide was rising, fast.

Face facts, I grumbled. My supply was long gone.

And she beat me to the punch.