The tennis ball sailed over the top of the dune, quickly followed by a black and white collie.
Maria crested the ridge, the full expanse of the bay coming into view.
Buster was at the surf’s edge, sniffing at a tiny pink body.
Maria gasped and hurried down the steep slope onto the beach. ‘Buster!’
As she dashed across the wet sand she spotted another small body a few yards away. Then another. Then dozens more.
She slowed and approached the closest. It was a child’s doll. Relieved, she tipped it over with her foot, jumping when it muttered, ‘Mama.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.