In days past and nights forgotten, stories are written on the sands of time and easily passed by like the shadows on a long summers day. Here is one such about a man known only as Grist.
May 18, 1872
I am takin' the time to jot this down because I can hardly believe what's happened to me. I am a simple man and life affords me very little luxury. I've worked the docks all my life and have a small house on the edge of town but now everything is about to change. I've found the drifts. Most people don't even know what they are ,I certaintly didn't until I seen them with my own eyes. The only way I can describe them is to say the waves dance with light. Now I know that makes me sound crazy or drunk or hell maybe downright insane, but I know what I saw. They danced for me so I gotta do what I can to see them again. They were as bright and warm as the sun itself and they whispered to me in the voices of angels. Seems there are things far beyond what man can see when he looks and they don't always let themselves be seen. I guess what I'm gettin' at is if you don't open your eyes to them they will stay hidden. I know I sound like a crazy ramblin old salt dog, I've seen somethin' in those waves I can't unsee.
June 20, 1872
I found somethin' again today, it worries me. The waves have been dancin' for me almost every day now but the voices are getting stronger. They crash and echo in my head like the surf and leave little room for thinking. But it's worth it too see the drifts, my heart belongs to them now and I'll soon join them.
August 13, 1872
I write this with a heavy heart, my hopes have all withered and there is nothing left now so I'll set sail one last time...............
Copyright 2003 J. K. Stuart