Change

A slow perambulation, salty tang of the sea in his mouth. His doctor had recommended that he take advantage of it daily, to lower stress and blood pressure, stop the slow drain of sand from his hour glass, or at least, slow the grains a little. The shore was beautiful, he conceded, but boring. Every day, the waves and the beach were the same. The same forgotten shoe, crawling out of the sand and muck, the same sounds, the same smells and sighs.
Today, it was no different. This patch of beach was always covered in kelp and little else. As he walked further though, he saw the new rock. Finally, excitement. Or at least, something new. Funny to get excited about a new rock. Once, he used to be excited about big things - bombs, and embassies, and governments. Now, a rock. As he came closer, the rock gained definition. Greyish white, with veins a little pink. He rolled it over with a pointed toe. Maybe it was some kind of mineral rock he could keep, or sell. As it rolled, it looked at him. Not a rock, at all. An eyeball, blue and gigantic - the size of a softball. Lost in the ocean deeps somewhere by a creature he couldn’t name. Blinded. He walked on, wondering if it would still be there tomorrow.