She circled the brown wooden structure, running her fingers along the wooden slats on the side and the back of the building at waist level. Feeling the texture of the wood and the few remaining thin daubs of white paint worn away by wind, rain and the salty sea air over the last few decades.
To the left of the door, she ran her fingers down the canvas nailed to the wood. Revelling in the contrast of its texture to the wooden slats.
The door's peeling surface revealed layers of varicoloured paint applied over the years. A variety of browns with an underlying coat of dull yellow peeking through.
Despite the erosion of the paintwork, she marvelled at the fact this structure was so intact when so many similar buildings dotted over the shingle beach were in such decrepit states. Fishing nets haemorrhaging from broken walls. Doors sagging on hinges. Burnt struts exposed to the elements like skeletons.
She approached the door, running her fingers over the exposed door handle. Wondering at its seemingly bonelike colour and appearance. She curled her fingers around the doorknob and turned it, expecting resistance. Surely this small building was still in use and therefore locked, with its four walls, corrugated iron roof and door still intact, despite all the wear and tear from the elements buffeting it, placed so close to the sea.
To her surprise, the door creaked open with no resistance.
She almost stepped back in surprise.
The door opened outward. She pulled it toward her, hesitantly peering around the door jamb at what might be inside. She realised she had held her breath, unconsciously, and on becoming conscious of the fact, exhaled heavily then inhaled deeply; the smell of the ocean mingling with the musty smell of the interior of the building.
A strange mixture of nostalgia washed over her: one of childhood summer holidays by the beach mixed with memories of the storage space under the stairs of her grandparents' house. For a moment she felt lost in time, and the darkness of the interior she looked in on made her feel a little off-balance.
The day was overcast and a little hazy, so much of the interior remained darkened until she opened the door fully; and even then, her eyes took a while to pick out the details in the shadows not illuminated by the daylight.
She wandered in, letting the door close gently behind her. She had established that the door had no lock, so she didn't worry about being trapped inside, though she felt slightly apprehensive about what she may find in the darkness.
She turned on the torch on her mobile phone and shone it about her. The building contained a lot of the same contents as so many similar structures along the beachfront: nets, motors, rusted machinery, and implements she knew not the purpose of. Strange artefacts she wondered at and thought may make interesting decorations for her apartment.
Her phone, previously indicating plenty of battery, suddenly turned off. The interior of the building was quickly thrown into darkness, and for a moment she felt like she was blind. She stood stock-still, feeling a little off-balance again, but waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
In a few moments, a small amount of light seeped through between the wooden slats. A tight polka dot pattern of light came through the canvas, albeit pale. She let her breath out, realising she'd been holding it again.
Despite her initial discomfort with the darkness, as her eyes adjusted to the low light she found the space quite calming. The sound of the sea reached her through the walls but was less overwhelming when filtered through the canvas and wood.
She moved toward where she thought one of the walls was, navigating the space slowly and carefully. She hesitantly reached out her hands at a forty-five-degree angle, expecting her fingertips to connect with the rough wooden surface quickly, but it took far longer than expected.
When they did connect with the wood, she ran her hand gently down and moved from standing to squatting, using her other hand to check for anything at a lower point. She skimmed the wooden floor of the building with the palm of her hands before seating herself between what felt like a reel of net and some paint tins.
She sat there in the dark, letting the distant sound of the sea wash over her. She slowed her breathing to match the speed of the waves as the water swept onto and away from the shore outside. She felt a strange calm. A peace she didn't often experience. In the darkness she closed her eyes and just focussed on the sound, letting it wash her away.