- Vol. 04
- Chapter 12
The sea spreads her lacy petticoats wide on the dunes, dry as dusty animals grazing in the field. Over and over, she licks their flanks till they disappear. From above, from the view of a pelican hovering over a trawler, we can see the tide rise, sweeping off every shed shell polished by the shifting of wind and water. And here, so small we hardly notice, a woman sleeps on her pillow of sand. She doesn’t sense the surf coming closer till it almost touches her curved instep, like a blanket she has tossed aside. It goes on hollowing the dunes with its subtle blades, casting up thick tangles of kelp, driftwood bouquets.