ocean

»Do you ever miss the sea?« Sam asked.

Harry stopped chopping celery and looked out the window. How could he explain it to Sam? Sam, who had lived all his life in this village. Sam, who went once a year for a weekend at the coast.

The sea was in his blood. He heard the ocean call to him with the roar of its waves and the salt of its air. Every night he lay down to sleep with the thought that this would be his last night on land, tomorrow he would...

He shook his head. »Not really, Sam.«