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the sea is red and rowdy in the morning and
through the afternoon. after diving for
hooks, bringing chains to
harvest the kelp, he stumbles onto
the sand. the beach is scattered with
small, minuscule, pieces of
splintered wood and then covered with
dead fish of various side. when he comes home for
dinner, his young wife is
serving him and calling him an old man, she takes
a fish from the fire and lays it in front of
him. he asks where it
came from, ‘from the red and rowdy sea, of course.’