The old fisherman said nothing, but gave his empty glass
a morose stare turned the base pointedly on the bar.
“Two of whatever he’s having,” I said to the bartender.
The old man gave a toothy smile as the beer slid across
the bar. He took a large gulp and then spoke:
“Aye, I’ve seen the beast. Though among the fisherfolk it’s
called The Great Deep.”
“You’ve seen it?” I asked, leaning forward, beer
forgotten.
He nodded, “Was twenty years ago. I was on the night
watch when it reared up from the calm ocean, sending great waves towards us.
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