of ancient seas and drowned strands.

• +..Um...Retropop!


• +..reggaeton electro Goth


• +.. post punk...

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‘I shouldn’t worry. What’s happening is really very simple. At night I hear the sounds of the sea, I go out and watch the waves in the moonlight, and then come back to bed.’ He paused, a flush of fatigue on his face. Tall and slimly built, Mason was still convalescing from the illness which had kept him at home for the previous six months. ‘It’s curious, though,’ he resumed, ‘the water is remarkably luminous. I should guess its salinity is well above normal –’ ‘But Richard …’ Miriam looked around helplessly, her husband’s calmness exhausting her. ‘The sea isn’t there; it’s only in your mind. No one else can see it.’ Mason nodded, hands lost in his pockets. ‘Perhaps no one else has heard it yet.’ Ballard, J. G.