Debt to be Drowned

The sea does not rage without reason. It withdraws. It listens.Along the coast of Sussex, where marsh swallows light and fog moves like a living thing, the tide has always carried more than foam and wreckage. It carries memory. It carries bone. It carries the slow arithmetic of the dead.There are nights when the wind turns inland and the air thickens with rot. Windows sweat. Hinges rust overnight....