Finding a place to sit on the bustling harbour wall was difficult enough. Adults, children and seagulls struggled for domination on the crowded pathways and worn seating. We placed ourselves at an angle along the sloping lifeboat runway, looking out beyond the empty, sandy harbour to the sea at the turn of the tide.
Nervously began the construction of our tuna filled bread rolls. Gulls screeched and threatened us. Young ones tip toed past, eyeing up a potential feast, only to be shooed away with relative ease.
Children played and ran between the lonely boats perched on the sand, salty air clawed at my lungs with a burst of life, I lifted the roll and took a bite, a beautiful roll. What a wonderful lunch!
‘Arrrk!’ I couldn’t prepare myself. Suddenly shrieks and flapping engulfed my face and hands and before I knew it the beastly bird had flown away. Shocked I look down to see half a tuna filled roll hanging limp from my hand. A swarm of seagulls squealed and howled in applause, flying in from all directions to watch the demise of their next victim. Saving myself I threw the remainder of my roll to the harbour floor. Dazed and in despair I sat and watched as the vultures scrammed for their trophy, fighting for a one peck of the sumptuous and kindly prepared meal.
In an instant it was gone.
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