I knew it was a whale, when I saw it there, still, in all the scum-flecked flotsam, at the high-tide mark. That gracious tail, the noble head and soft-slabbed flanks, beached,
Just down from the concrete steps and car park, where the children play, and scream with joy at all that sand and the dark green sea. The dark, green sea that swept this thing from God knows where to here. Its drifting death, compounded by this graceless resting place.
I think that I can compensate the universe. Retrieve something vibrant from this corpse. So I cut him free with my small, sharp blade, I feel the breath escape as I sink him in my sandy pocket to take him home. We both know now that only I can set him free.