It spoke in crashes and stillness. I stood in the tides of its tantrums and revelations, squirming up to my ankles in the sand so I would not be swept away.
Heat. Like the sun had gotten far too close to the land. Heat. Red. Sparks. Lightning spiking out, lashing out, whipping at anything within reach. Claws striking blindly. Towers of land jutting from the gulf. Squalls and torrents raking across the surface of the water.
And under it all, bleeding like a scab constantly reopened, throbbing like an ache deep inside the bones, dry.