Amid the vast stretch of damp earth, a child found an old wristwatch. Its hands were frozen at ten past six. She tucked it, bewildered, into her pocket; her dreams filled with unanswered questions that night.
A glimpse at fleeting time echoes here.
The fisherman spoke of shadows beneath waves, infrared glows only they could see. At dawn, they cast their nets near the venturous rocks, while the sea whispered secrets only to themselves.
Discover another sea tale's edge here.
A fine mist clung to the air as the sun nudged its way into the horizon. Rebecca worried at the fraying edges of her notebook, its pages already half spilled with ink blotches resembling tidal currents and lonely piers. Two forgotten passages flew through her mind, amidst notes of afterthoughts scattered like shells lost to the tide, waiting for her humble touch.
The first spoke of forgotten names, etched into the soft wood of a dock, fading but persistent, clinging onto berths deserted over time. The second reminded her of vertiginous steps, winding between whispered stone corridors leading nowhere—or everywhere, depending on choice of purpose.
Together perhaps a riddle, unfriendly yet benevolent, that only the errors of one specific path would untangle.