UU writers’ group ten minute prompt – beach
I have had some disastrous events on Red Rock’s beach. I mean life-threatening disasters. The Red Rock I’m talking about is in San Francisco Bay, halfway between the city of Richmond and Marin County. It’s an island about twice the size of a large football stadium and about that high. I have been out there over a dozen times digging for Sir Francis Drake’s buried treasure. Needless to say, I haven’t found it yet, but I have nearly gotten myself killed several times in the attempt.
One of the places I was digging was under a large rock, which both Drake and I thought of as Surveyors Rock, perched on the south side of Red Rock, the base of which was about ten feet above the beach. It was dangerous digging there, because at any moment my undermining the rock might lead to its collapse. I had built an escape path to the side so I could run away quickly. My hope was that there would be some crumbling before it came down, and even four or five steps would be enough to get out from under this bus-sized rock, before it squished me.
The last time out there, I was in the short tunnel I had been digging — it was about the size of a grave — when some rocks, small pebbles really, came trickling down my neck. I panicked and ran out from under the falling gravel. My thoughts of survival got the better of my curiosity and lust for gold, and I never went back under that rock.
Now, when I go to Google Earth, I can see that the rock has collapsed onto the beach, and huge chunks rolled out into the Bay. Fortunately, without me squished under them.
I am a slow learner, but I don’t go under falling rocks anymore.