Driftwood

I sat there. Staring at a piece of charcoaled driftwood that lay in the sand, near the shore, on the other side of the mouth of a small river, that separated the long stretch of beach I'd been walking along. I stared at it because it looked like a seal. And I was waiting for it to move. 
The strong yet pleasant wind swept my mind clean of every thought but that of it suddenly moving. I sat there for an hour, just to be sure it wasn't going to. 
I could have thought about many things as I allowed my gaze to wander out to sea many times during that hour. But I didn't. My gaze kept drifting back, as I waited. 
Then I got up, walked away, back home along the beach, and forgot about it.  

People of Berlin #1 - Straßenfeger

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