Return to the Sea
I’ve been fishing these waters for forty years. The battering of the waves against the rocky shore was the first sound I ever heard. The tang of salt was the first I remember smelling. Cold never bothered me, nor the embrace of wet sand strewn with seaweed beneath my feet. I know these seas better than I know myself. Real good here for catching squid, and octopus, and cuttlefish. Every manner of sea creature that’s out there—I’ve seen them all, know them all. But this thing… what my boys and I netted and dragged onto the trawler, this thing I’d never seen before.
There was a strange whisper to the wind the day. Amidst the slurry of flailing tails and tentacles it lay—and I thought it dead—except that it pulsated, slowly, deliberately. The boys were repulsed by it, perhaps out of an innate fear of the unfamiliar, or perhaps, like myself, by its eyes which seemed… aware.
But I thought nothing of it. I couldn’t sell the thing—not for eating, anyway—so why not have the boys throw it over and be done with it? I should have… ah, but what a curious fellow I was. I packed the thing away determined to show it to someone more learned than myself, perhaps a naturalist. That night, after the sea had rocked me to sleep, I was plagued by the most peculiar dreams; of waves and stars and depths and dark. I woke suddenly, soaked in sweat.
The thing went in my fridge as soon as I made land and made it home. The naturalist I intended to show my discovery to had been out of town, and after several days of waiting, the thing slipped from my mind. I found myself feeling restless. Never had I so dearly yearned for the sea. The depths called to me. I slept less and less each night, and so I walked the rain-swept streets, and under the brightness of the moon I caught glimpses of ashen eyes in glistening skin. By day the ocean wind continued its guttural whispers, and by the spray of a white sea mist it beckoned me to return.
I received a letter on the seventh day, a notice that the naturalist had returned. The naturalist? Ah… that’s right. I had wanted to see him. My feet splashed, by cold fingers ached, as I wrenched open my fridge door. The creature within continued to writhe. It looked at me knowingly, and I swaddled it in my arms.
Waves battered against the rocky shore. Salt stung the back of my throat. Cold wet sand squelched beneath my feet.
The creature beckoned me to return it to the sea.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeWd3OOKiww
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