The 2 miles of beach from Whitby to Sandsend curve away westward. Beyond Kettleness Point seals play in the kelp-beds, barking at echoes, and stones roll together at the cliff's edge, making sand randomly. This is a place my mind is drawn to when I am far away from here.
Treasure comes to this place. Here someone once spoke a poem in my ear, a poem about Love and for once about me. Here, I found a whole case of French wine washed ashore, and drank it in a week with two friends. I came here before I had to have my dog killed and again afterwards to throw the collar and lead far out into the darkness.
On summer evenings with a clear sky there is a Blue in the heart of the sea here that shines through even closed eyes. They say such a light can actually be tasted, they say by cupping your hands out in front of you and then passing it to your lips you can actually drink it. They say such a light can be heard sighing like liquid glass in the waves' curl.
The locals warn you must never drink it, you must never listen – that if you do the Blue from the heart of the sea will lodge in your heart and you will never again leave this place. In life your dreams will come here from far away, in death your Soul will pass to the heart of a grey seal to be brought back to Kettleness barking at the cliffs all the long cold nights until, finally, all the Blue you have become will be the Blue in the heart of the sea breaking wave upon wave to the long sands' sweep as it curves away westward from Whitby to Sandsend ... from Whitby to Sandsend ... from Whitby to sands' end ...
— The End —