SOMETHING: A SHORT STORY

He lived inland for two decades, rarely driving the 45 minutes down to the coast.  A new job, however, had him moving down that way.  With the ocean so close by now, he would take advantage of it, of course, which for him meant long walks along the beach.  Accordingly, every Saturday for five years he strode along the beach, at Crystal Cove State Park.

But why did he do this walking for so many years?  Surely the novelty of it wore off after three months.  No, it rather seemed he was looking for something.

If it was beauty he was looking for, there was plenty of that, canyons dense with chaparral above the beach, cotton-tail rabbits everywhere, dusty little ground squirrels, hawks floating in the updrafts along the cliffs, seagulls marching back and forth; it was a marvelous scene.
 
Fine, but, no, he confessed that he was looking for more than just beauty.  He kidded himself that he was looking for the skies to open up, just like in the movies, and for something to speak to him.  Wasn’t it what everyone wanted after all, when they strode on the beach, something from the sky?  When, though, after five years, evidence of his need, the skies had yet to open for him, much less give him something to hear, he gave up.

This was what something was waiting for, it turned out, for the walker to yield, to surrender, to toss in the towel, for it meant that he was empty now, ready for what this was really all about.  And so it spoke to him.