The currents whispered secrets long since buried beneath ancient eddies. Hidden murmurs carried through waterless tunnels sought to breach consciousness, one cautious rhythm at a time. Unsuspecting, drifting soul— Eddie, was it?—drifted listlessly amid a symphony only faintly perceptible to waking ears.

Perhaps it was a dream, or the echo of moonlight refracted through labyrinthine fissures, but the music of the deep hummed within his marrow. Each pulse, an erratic metronome nudged by unseen hands; an intent at once foreign and intimately known. The kind of deluge one can't dry themselves off from.

There were stories here:

• A fisherman once caught a star, but it fell back and drowned in saltwaves.Stars and Sea Fables
• Listen to octopus cradled whispers and discover words never meant to be spoken.Cradled Whispers

Share the mariner’s laughter, unravel threads spun from abyssal silk, but tackle approaching crestfalls by force of will alone. Yes, a rebellious soul. Eddie would remember, he thought, remembering that forgetting was also a memory's adoptive cousin.

And then… silence. Just before equilibrium yielded to chaotic genesis anew, Eddie felt the pull subsiding into silence, a drawn bowstring’s vibration leaving the arousable yawning past anchors. Drifting. Further. ≈