Eddy

 The sun had dipped low in the sky, and had turned the world salmon pink. The boy sat on a craggy ledge of the rock pool and looked out toward the pier, dangling his feet in the tepid sea. He counted the pylons; five lots of legs that stood tall and straight, upholding the jetty that stretched out into the bay. There was no one walking there now and as he looked around he could see that the entire village had gone home. 

He thought about doing the same but again became lost in his young boy thoughts as he stared into the watery depths of the rock pool before him. It took a while before he noticed. Several moments in fact before he saw the concentric pattern that formed on the pool's surface. It started as a small ripple and gradually wound itself into a swirling eddy. 

He watched for a while, wondering how large it might grow. The momentum increased, creating small waves that caused the water to slap up the rock face, splashing his legs and spraying his face.  He pulled his legs from the pool and hugged his knees to his chest, the late afternoon air cold on his skin.  

The water swirled and as he stood to leave, he saw the eddy moving toward him.  It gurgled and bubbled and spat as though something beneath the surface was hunting him down. He stood quickly, realising at once what was beginning to happen. He curled his toes around the sharp boney edges of rock as he climbed his way from the edge of the pool. He made his way onto the path that led up to the fisherman's shed, and he cast a quick glance back at the pool. The water had calmed. 

He stopped for a moment and looked around. On the pier he could see the familiar silhouette of a man had now appeared, his coat blown open, his long stringy hair dancing about in the wind. He watched the man, knowing he was watching him back. He dropped his sandals to the ground and shoved his wet feet into them and then turned his back on the sinking sun.  Without hesitation, he ran. He needed to warn the others.