Toby
I follow an underwater jetty that begins in the dunes and continues far out to sea in an orderly formation. I try a northerly tack, but the offshore wind is still too strong to come about, along with the outgoing tide that continues to draw well past its allotted hour. If I were a religious man, which I’m not, I might suspect the Timekeeper was tipping the world in an effort to thwart my retreat. A bump on the head doesn’t explain these visions I’ve been having, nor does having drunk too much seawater or sailing under the hot sun the day long. What I’m experiencing goes deeper. These events are somehow real and happening in real time. The bite marks on my heels and calves are proof enough of that. I need to talk to someone, have them tell me that I have air in my lungs and blood cour
