Friday, 24 April 2009

Village Tales: At the beach

Then we ran down the sand and met the waves and drenched ourselves, tasting salt in our tongues.

At low tide we crossed the river with a fishing net and dozens of crows followed us, swirling blind with hunger.

The night was a falling curtain across the sky when we returned. We had live crabs and small fish that we could fry for dinner, so small that they would melt in our mouths, all meat, bone and skin.

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