I was walking along the beach at first light, thankful to be alive after another hard night on the icy black sea, when I spied a leather sketchbook washed up by the surf.
It looked to have ridden the currents for many a mile. Bloated with seawater, crusted in barnacles, its pages tangled with kelp.
Yet when I opened it, the sketches within were nigh untouched. And the tale they told… well… it chills me even now to recall it.
A cautionary tale, that… A warning…
