Two weeks of business with the boss, then 18 hours in airports, and finally the blinking machine to greet him. He sighed. The suitcase heaved out of the way, the door slammed home.

He hit play. “Calling to remind you that you got the kids this weekend. Don’t forget! They wanna go to the beach. I got their stuff. Be here before 10.” The next two messages were also the ex’s voice, her outrage increasing.

The beach found him by autopilot. The twins tumbled out, racing across the sand. Their sister followed in their wake.

He’d never even noticed the warning signs.

Picture is by Leonard J Matthews. (100 words)

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