A mouth full of sand

Down at the beach volleyball court on Sunday, it was like a bloody zoo. Some players were coiled cobras, ready to strike at any minute; others stalked the court like panthers on a night feed, while others were greedy baboons, grabbing at balls left, right and centre.  And then there was the lone meerkat, permanently on high alert but not seeing much action. That was me. I did commit to a couple of headlong lunges but all I got was a face full of sand. I’ve had 14 showers since then and the sand is still coming out of me.