A Message from the Tide
by Yoke
About This Novel
The smoke from the red-tiled houses has been entangled in the tidal fog for ten years, and the white skirt on the rocks was finally swept away by the autumn floods. Lin Zhen is always mending the torn fishing net, and the mesh leaks the sunshine of 1987, the bottle of iodine handed over by Su Yue, and the bamboo pole she clenched tightly when the ocean liner blew its whistle. He counted the tide letters and waited for the return date, but he didn't know that some of the waiting would sink to the bottom with the waves - just like if she hid it in a drift bottle, she would never wait until the day it was opened. The tide rose and receded, and the salt grains formed frost on his temples. On the window lattice of the red-tiled house, there was still an unfinished sweater hanging with half a piece of dried sea stuck in the stitches.
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