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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2023
Submitted to Contest #308
They say the sea never forgets. But I wonder now, and I sit on the lip of the world with my pen trembling against vellum paper, if it ever has. It was summer 1954. I was ten, nearly eleven, all knobs and knees and terrified of deep water. My parents rented the same salt-bleached cottage every year in Ashwood Bay, a town too small for maps but big enough to have secrets. I remember the heat curling off the sand like specters, the sunburn on my shoulders, and the endless expanse of time that only children possess. That was the summer I knew he...
5 Atlas was still on the empty beach, his limbs aching, his flesh salt-burned and battered. The tempest had gone, but had left him shattered in more than one way. His arms and legs pained him, the lead of the sea's wrath still running through his bone. When he was at last capable of standing upright, burning pain stabbed through his ribs, and he doubled over, hissing.The silence that had closed over him was oppressive. No gulls cried overhead, no waves gently lapped at the horizon—only the wind keening over the empty ground, talking to him a...
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