The North Sea fills the lungs.

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SupineSnake

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- one -​

South Yorkshire.
14th July, 2022.

He suddenly found himself face-down in the sand. His gigantic, hulking figure expelled lungfuls of seawater onto the beach. There was sand in his eyes, sand in his mouth, sand in his nose. Sand everywhere. He fought for breath, and felt for a moment as though it would be a battle he would lose. Images of old battles spilled into his mind, violent and unclear flashes, fragments of a past unremembered. Against man and against time.

He closed his eyes and drew in a haggard, uneven first breath. The second was easier. Regulating was difficult, but he felt in control once more. Finally, he hurled himself onto his back. Stared up at the sun. It blinded him, and he felt alive. If his senses were threatened he must be coming to them.

A few more blinks and a face came into focus. It wasn't one he remembered, but now he came to think about it he didn't remember much of anything. The face was old, and seemed kind. He was smiling through a bristling grey beard.

"Can you hear me?" the man asked. He could, though he now realised that a loud, piercing ringing sound plagued him. He squinted and shook his head, the ocean washing out of his hair and separating the sand from his face. The large man looked up at the old one and nodded his head. “Can you speak?”

“I can speak,” the large man answered, though the words were hard-won. “Where am I?”

“You’re in England,” the old man said. “You know where that is?”

The large man shook his head. He noticed that the old man was clothed, and that he was naked.

“What happened to me?” he asked, whilst sitting up. His head hurt. His chest hurt. His legs and his arms hurt.

“You went to the Drowned God,” the old man said, with a shrug. He was still smiling.

“Is the Drowned God who they have in England?”

“No, it’s from a television show,” the old man explained. “You don’t have television where you’re from?”

The large, naked man thought about the question for a while. His breathing was becoming more regular, less strained though still it pained his chest to heave the carbon dioxide out of it.

“I don’t know where I’m from,” he said, finally.

The old man’s smile seemed to falter.

“You know your name?” he asked, hopefully.

“No,” the naked man answered. The other stared out across the shore.

“Well, you came from the sea, as far as I can tell,” he said, finally. “We’ve got a lot of that here. Sea, I mean. And she throws up mysteries from time to time. Gifts, too.”

The large man didn’t know what he meant. He felt the sea had been cruel to him, and that he wished to be far away from it. Though he couldn’t explain this in any more detail, and lacked the words to express himself clearly..

“Do you know if you’re hungry?” the old man asked.

“I’m hungry,” the other one said.

“We’ve got food at the farm. You can walk?”

“I can walk.”

The old man helped the naked man to his feet, and led him to his tractor.
 

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Oh Thank God, Reagan no longer helped in a murder, that’s good.