Keys in the Sand

The keys, oh, where were the keys? The bride slipped on the sand, her heels not made for such a loose surface. She was supposed to be getting married today. Married on the beach, to the greatest guy she'd ever met.

But she'd shown up on the wrong beach. And now she'd lost her keys.

Bending down, she tried her best to dig through the sand without getting her dress too dirty. She shifted her weight, and that treacherous sand slid underneath her heel.

Down she fell. Sand itched against her arms, in her hair. Everywhere.

Who's idea was it to get married on the beach?

And on a beach whose name was so similar to another beach, thirteen miles away!

She had to find those keys. Find the keys, get in the car, and drive to the right beach.

Oh, she hoped her groom wouldn't think she'd gotten cold feet.

It would shatter her to break his heart.

There! A glint of metal.

The car keys!

She scooped them up, scrambling to her feet. Sand fell, while other grains stubbornly clung to her.

She grinned wildly, holding up the keys.

Her grin faltered.

Lowering her hand, she stared at the keys.

“These aren't mine!”