Catching up...

Ok, so I was going on about the 4 words thingy... Here's what you've missed so far.
(And i use the term 'missed' lightly)

A death, a sea shell, a radio and a jacket.

Cupped in my hand, the sun reflects of it's curves and leaves a shattered spectrum across my fingers. It's freezing. The wind off the bay pulls through the hood of my jacket and weaves it's way down my back. I shiver.
I think back to the panic of forgotten meals, the excitment of a pinched finger, the boredom of movement. I remember the bathing, the relocating, the sand.
I throw the shell into the ocean, back to where it grew from, back to where it belongs.
It doesn't travel far though as the wind grabs the empty shell and it flails in the air. It lands in an inch of water, and I decide that's good enough.
I look out at the breaking waves and then turn and make my way back to the carpark behind the beach. Thinking of my lost friend
The car is still warm from the trip, I rub my hands together and wonder how the hell humans can get so attached to crustaceans.
"It was a fucking hermit crab for christ's sake" I tell myself as the chorus of "Rock Lobster" blares from the radio.