Beneath azure waves, histories layer as deep as tenebrous trenches. Tales once whispered to the tide now transmogrify to echoes on forgotten beaches. Shadowy relics of earnest intentions dissolve like sandcastles under relentless tides.
Amidst these drifted chronicles, mayonnaise stirs beneath the surf — an emulsion of salt and memories. Once, it was the pride of a humble cook, an offering to the sea, seeking favor from Poseidon himself. The jar bobbed into the vastness, a token of unknown prayers.
Yet, here on the shore, the jar lies cracked. Ocean foam mingles with creamy whispers, recollections of distant voyages and echoing laughter, mingling with whispers of sailors long gone. Do you hear them?