28th April 1944
It rumbled suddenly into Harry’s dream. Something loud and threatening and dangerous. He woke with a start, for a moment surprised to find darkness and soft dry sand around him, the familiar sound of waves swishing on the shore; dragging, draining out, splashing in again, and pebbles skittering around in the foam. It sounded like the sea breathing.
Whatever woke him wasn’t the sea. Through the rock windows he saw nothing except pale, shifting shingle and silver light stretching into the milky moon bay. But far out, blurred by a delicate shroud of sea mist, a throbbing orange glow was spreading out along the dark horizon. Bright bursts of light suddenly illuminated the night sky followed by another low thudding sound.
Out in the bay were dark shapes, ships, and then as first light crept into the sky, flat wide boats were racing in…
The Kid on Slapton Beach
Have you read it?
published by Wight Diamond Press