The View From My Bowl

-138


It was down near the sea where the seagulls gather and the mountains loom. A distant boat cut through the waves and at the top of the beach was this skeleton of a home.

Its interior equal parts raw stone, whitewash and charred blackened soot. The main room had been devastated, roof gone and walls shattered. A fan of stones had spread out onto the rocks of the beach as though some great force had burst from the cottage and returned to the depths.....