The boat sped along the sound. The island was to my right and looked like a strip of miniature houses and green. To my right was nothing but blue water. I was alone but not, there were three others.
A storm was moving in. We got stuck on a sandbar. Something thudded against the bottom of the boat. As I pushed the oar against the sand, I saw it.
It was the baby that died after I gave birth on the beach- alone, ten years ago. He looked preserved not dead. He smiled and swam on, leaving a bloody wake.
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