"Come here, boy." That tune is familiar, tugging at a memory hiding deep within.
"Come here, boy." I can't fight the pull of her sounds, her rhythm, her pulse.
"Come here, boy." I wish I could ask her to stop, even as I beg her to continue.
"Come here, boy." A siren song, the bite of waves nipping at my ankles, undertow claiming my skin like forgotten baggage.
"Come here, boy." I barely hear her now, her melody lost, bouncing somewhere above the twisting sea.
"Come here, boy."
I'm here. But where are you?
