Llofruddiaeth gan y Môr

(a short story, 30/3/14)


Prologue

Th Skull crashed rhythmically
on th rocks.
He had timed it
with th tides.

Chapters

Th battered cod
took up a desk job
as th station emptied entirely
for th first time in a century.
~
a plastic scene.
everything bagged and accounted for.
Stood around,
rubbing sand and sleep
from eyes
are more officers
than had gathered
since Old Garth's send-off.
~
Th man with no sand,
only death behind his eyelids
sat with his back to th statue
of Carannog
and thought nothing,
completely at peace.
~
a killers cd was found
on th beach.
Not their killers'
but someone with intent
to murder their ears
joked th coroner
and th hollow chuckles
were eager.
a small movement
to keep out th cold.
~
Th woman with too many children
and some fewer dogs
felt itchy
in th humidity
and amidst th thick sea fret
lackd patience,
or good judgement.
~
Gwen Davies at th Hut
heard arguing,
maybe a scuffle.
Nothing that unusual.
Familial discord,
as she called it
or perhaps marital.
Th Veteran of Cardiff
would arrive within th week
and dismiss this one good lead
as circumstantial.
~
Embers flicker
along blackened timber
in a driftwood fire
like apartment lights
of a future highrise in Hull.
Upwind of th smoke a figure sits
and pokes
and notes
once twitching fingers
now are still.
~

Epilogue

Old folk say
that th rocky headland
put some in th mind
for violence.
Bica's broken tooth
a skimmd stone from a broken jaw.

th Sea will take this village
eventually
as it shifts th land,
shapes th truth
and only th waves now know
what little Lochtyn saw.



Th End.

Beth yn 'Gartref' yn y Cymraeg?