I prefer not to have to trudge through the sand in order to get my work done, but here I was. I blame the dead man I was carrying for that. He was the one who thought it would be a good means of escape to drive right into the sea.

Pathetic escape.

Very pathetic escape.

My feet sunk with each step I took, granules of the shimmering sand crowding my shoes. Socks almost seemed usless w...