Long, serpentine, half-buried in wet sand, its slick skin caught the light in a way that made it seem like it might move again at any second. My dog’s soft whine behind me felt like a warning I shouldn’t ignore.
I didn’t dare get closer. Instead, I used my phone as a shield, zooming in, capturing details I wasn’t sure I wanted to see.
Hours later, safe at home, I learned it was just a dead moray eel. But “just” didn’t fit. Knowing its name didn’t erase the chill.
It was a quiet, unnerving reminder: beneath that flat blue surface, the world is still wild, and it can reach us whenever it wants.
Pages: 1 2