A Training Regime

The fireworks were beautiful. Kobo had never seen anything like them. There were peonies, chrysanthemums and palms, crossettes and little boys haircuts, spiders and rains. They were red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and silver. They rose high into the night sky with crackles and bangs, then floated gently and silently down into the sea.

It was over. The crowd clapped and cheered and began picking up their things to go home.

Did you like that, my darling? asked Ageless.

Yes, answered Kobo. Thank you Ageless my sweetheart, for giving me the gift of vision even though the eyes are not as good as I had expected. Vision can be disappointing, but those fireworks were a source of pleasure and delight to me just now.

Vision disappointing? said Ageless, flexing his brand new lycra-covered appendages. Ha ha! I trust you don't mean me?

Kobo had meant him, and was instantly sorry.

Let us run on the beach, she suggested.

Yes let's! cried Lavender. We can all hold hands!

No, said Ageless. I shall have to give it a miss. I must keep to my training regime.

Surely running would be good for your training regime, said Baby Pierre.

Err.... no, said Ageless. My training regime involves finding some team members, first of all. I'm off. Bye bye. If you like, I'll see you all at Semaphore tomorrow. There are a couple of crabs that I'm hoping to catch up with. Karkinos and Decapod. We used to ride to school together, years ago.

And he shuffled away down the esplanade in a northerly direction.

So much for my date, said Kobo.

Good riddance! said Lavender. Now Baby Pierre. You can wait here. Kobo and me are going to run along the beach holding hands.

No you're not, said Baby Pierre. The tide's coming in.