On Seaford Head looking out at the long beach white edged by the crazy dance of waves. On the golf course, a man drives his trolley ahead of him with a remote control. I think this must be a new acquisition as he walks with his shaky arm tensely pointing out at the golf trolley like a Dalek. A stiffly square white dog walks alongside the trolley and I find myself wondering if a Dalek would ever have a pet.
Walking up the hill home from the station, a man in a business suit carrying his shiny briefcase is racing down towards me with one of those rigid dog leads ahead of him, like he is being dragged along helplessly. But there is no dog.