What The Sea Gave To Me

By Kell(?), (test piece)

I dug my palms into the wet sand around me. I could feel something coming up my throat. Heavy, slick, for a second I almost thought I was coughing up my stomach. It was that kind of slow internal process that makes your body wince and your fingers curl. Inevitable, entirely. All I could do was wait.

Seagulls caught the wind and wheeled above my head. The waves roared in my ears, lapping the shore in regular frothy motions to the beat of my convulsing. All I could think was is this it? Is this really all I'll get before I die?

The weight shifted somewhere around the back of my tongue. Whatever it was pressed its bulk into my mouth and sloshed forwards. It bounced against my teeth and wriggled to pry them open out of either frustration or some sick eagerness.

Before I knew it I could hear the slap of something viscous hit the ground. I wasn't sure what I was looking at, the whole thing had left me bleary-eyed. It was black, wet skin reflecting the greys of the sky and the sand. All round edges and soft wiggling shapes. I forgot my horror and reached out.

A slit yawned open, and its eye rolled over to meet me. White crescent, deep brown pool. It nuzzled against my hand, coating me in its fluids, and I could feel just how warm my body had left it.

That was the day I became a father.