Each morning they went out into the blue waters of the sea. “The fish must be caught before the fiery sun rises,” the wise old man would say. They knew if they were late, they'd return with empty nets, to empty kitchens and pangs of hunger.
But the sea is a mysterious creature. You never know the secrets she holds. This morning they had left early, as usual. The fish they caught fueled not their kitchen stoves.
He was 19 and wore a skullcap. She was 16, the pundit’s daughter. Their corpses, stiff, still held hands.