The sea spray danced above the grey-white churning violence of waves as the fisherman prepared something bright, colorful, pretty, at the end of a sharp line—a gift for the fish. Yet as the object of his generosity was accepted freely into the mouth of the fish, the man revoked his offer, tugging back and taking with it the life of the fish.

And when the fisherman ripped the brassy hook from its fighting mouth, slimy and gasping for breath, he tossed the bait— the gift—high onto the beach where the waves could not claim payment of their stolen prize.

So when the mother screamed upon a sandy beach swarming with startled bathers, their bellies full of seafood, she did not understand that it was a sacrifice which was taken by the waves in retribution for their scaly comrades stolen from their homes in the murky depths.