Aaaand to celebrate Friday the Thirteenth, have a piece for Friday Fictioneers!
(Also, no, I’ve absolutely no idea where this piece came from, aha. It just sort of…spilled out, all of a sudden, as soon as I saw the picture of the ocean. Sigh.)
In the beginning, they say, the sea was silent.
The sound of waves did not whisper against the shores, water to sand like words on a lover’s skin; they did not crash, or scream.
The sea had no voice with which to speak, and yet still it lured them in, one by one by one.
Water met skin, dissolved skin slowly ’til it found bone, and was not sated even then.
They say the sea stole the voice of the first man it drowned, and that of every man thereafter, until every wave is now the echo of dead words.
And what’re you waiting for? Go check out all the other responses! :)