Pam wanted a good seat and Bob smiled as she sprinted along the board-walk. The bleachers were positioned to face the open ocean. The couple claimed their position, front row and central.
The tension of the crowd increased when the sun slid below the horizon. Spotlights illuminated the water’s edge and white sand. Pam bent forward; scanning, waiting. At last, a head appeared in the surf. No one made a sound. The tiny penguin struggled ashore and ran for the safety of the dunes.
‘Some flipping parade! 10 bucks to watch half a dozen penguins. What a rip-off!’ Bob moaned as they made their way back to the car park.
Below them, under the board-walk, the penguins sheltered unseen in their burrows, enjoying the human show.
WRITTEN FOR FRIDAY FICTIONEERS – A GROUP OF WRITERS WHO USE A PHOTOGRAPH FOR INSPIRATION AND POST THEIR 100 WORDS (MORE OR LESS) FOR SHARING. IT IS RUN BY THE WONDERFUL ROCHELLE WISOFF-FIELDS AT http://www.rochellewiofffields.wordpress.com