0012 'Only One Life Was Lost In This Disaster''

The water’s not so deep down here, it’s still stirred on the sea-bed by the off-shore tide. The seaweed waves in slow rhythm, almost gracefully. Sometimes a crab, going somewhere not apparent with laborious stubborn intent displaces very slightly the bone-white skeleton lying on its back, almost relaxed, almost temporary, as if waiting for time to give some signal to turn those stark claws back into a son’s hands or the current turns a few degrees the eyeless head, the young jaw, as a light sleeper in a dream, submissive to the tide; peaceful; down here in this filtered light death, grief, tears, a mother's memories seem unknown, have no place.