The Edge of Dawn

They went out at the turn of the tide, when the channel forgave you for an hour and took it all back afterwards.

The rock rose out of the dark the way a held breath finally leaves you. No birds on it. That was the first wrong thing. Mira had grown up on a coast that could not shut up about itself, gulls arguing from dawn until it was too dark to see, and Corrow Rock sat in the middle of all that noise saying nothing.

The lamp room door stood open. It had been welded shut in 1974.