The tide rolled in and deposited various trinkets along the beach.
Most of them were worthless, but there was value in some.
Jason arrived as the tide went out. He knew that pieces of driftwood could be nailed together randomly and sold to gullible London tourists for a decent amount of money.
He collected as much as he could carry and took it to his van. He could see there was a lot on the beach today and he was going to have a bit of a race against time if he wanted to get it all before the tide came back in.
"What are you doing?" an old man asked as he dumped yet another load behind his van and fumbled in his pocket for the keys.
"Collecting driftwood," Jason answered, opening the doors and chucking it in the back.
"What for?"
"I make art."
"Art? Art?" The old man shook his head.
Jason ignored him and went back to collecting wood.
When he turned to head back to the van it was ablaze. He dropped what he was carrying and ran across the sand.
The old man was standing nearby.
"What happened?" asked Jason.
"Art?"
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