beachcomb revue

two mornings a week, i go up and down the shoreline of the peninsular dog park. a person can find many curious things on this rocky beach on a windy day. mostly tampon applicators. sometimes various woods and plastics. i concentrate on bottles and more importantly what might be lodged inside them.
one day i found a large water bottle full of glittering, foily sparkles and ribbons.
another day i found a beer bottle with a waterlogged mouse curled up inside, presumably deceased.
earlier this spring i actually found a sealed, glass bottle with a rolled up piece of paper inside.
a message in a bottle.
i opened it up to sadly discover it was only the reprinted lyrics to the song 'message in a bottle.'
fuckers.
today was different. today i found a very old bottle. it was half buried in the thick muck where the shore gradually turns to grass. even after rinsing it in the cold saltly water the glass was filthy, clouded. i could not see inside so i shook it. there was something inside. it took me a minute to wrestle off the badly rusted cap. i held my breath and slowly turned the bottle, spilling out its contents onto the rocks.
crap.
just another dead genie.