The air smelled of salt and something darker as we stepped closer, curiosity wrestling with unease. It looked like a creature from a nightmare: stretched out like a snake, its bloated end distorted by the sea. For a moment, everyone around us seemed to believe we’d stumbled onto something unknown, something no one could quite name.
Then reality quietly took over. A fisherman approached, squinted, and shrugged: just a dead eel, swollen by gases and seawater, reshaped by waves and sand. The mystery dissolved, but the feeling it left behind did not. It was a stark reminder of how quickly the ordinary can appear monstrous, how easily our minds fill gaps with fear. Walking home with the dog tugging at the leash, we kept glancing back, still half-expecting it to move.
