Anyone that knows anything about sea fishing will tell you how important the tides are. Everything depends on them, The ability to catch fish, when to put down your nets, when to and where to lay your lobster creels, the amount of money make as a consequence and most importantly wither you return to shore alive. l, even as a lowly lobster-man, knew them better than than the back of my hand as it would be very rare that the back of my hand could mean the difference between life and death to me, the tides, my knowledge of them and the weather pretty much dictated wither I lived or died and despite the fact that I was neither the most important person, the wealthiest or the happiest, I did wish to survive to enjoy my unhappy, poor, and insignificant existence.
I did not have the best life that anyone had ever known, not for such as I were riches, comfort and travelling the world, yet it was not a bad life no matter what you may think and I knew it well and I knew the sounds of the sea even through the crashing of the waves, even through the salt stinging my eyes and I knew that now the tide had turned, if someone was still alive or even floating on his back then he would come ashore near the old shipyard pier. I could not see a thing other than different shades of darkness yet I knew this shore. Yet boulders moved with waves, rocks tumbled and crushed beneath the overwhelming power of the sea and added to all that there was sea weed, rain soaked and treacherous. I did consider giving up a number of times as one foot or the other slid from a rock and sent me crashing down. I could feel the warm blood coursing down from my right knee stinging and mingling with the overwhelming moisture produced by the sea and the rain. My foot had slipped off of the side of a rock and I had crashed down onto the other to try and stop myself from falling. I had not hurt myself really but I had opened a rather large gash on my knee and it was bleeding. Nothing to worry about really other than the thought that I would really need to clean it well when I got home. The town was old, it had been there in some form or another pretty much forever and so it did not have the sewerage systems that many new towns or modern towns do and so there was much seepage into the sea. A deep wound untreated will fester but one with sewerage in it left untreated will be gangrenous in no time. It was an annoyance rather than anything else. The other times I had slipped and fell had caused no real damage other than skinned hands and knuckles and a split lip. The split lip bothered me more than the other things as I was still young then and hoping to make a girls acquaintance at some point or another and they would not notice skinned hands but would a rather ugly split lip.
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And The Sea Shall give up it's DeadHorror
Those lost at sea are coming back, crawling from the waves, staggering up the shore, trying to walk, trying to regain the ability to walk, trying to recall their families, trying to remember what happened to them. Some have been lost for a hundred y...