"It's so dark," that was the only thing he could think to say, I suppose.
"I told you you wouldn't like it." I told him, trying to sound like this was all no big deal. I knew I'd have to explain it all to him one day, but exactly how do you start a conversation like that?
"I didn't know it would smell this bad, did it smell bad before too?" he looked so curious. I don't know why I expected him to be angry, he'd never known different.
"No. It used to smell very nice. The wind would blow in over the waves and you could close your eyes and imagine being the wind and soaring for mile after mile over the water." Something in my throat knotted up and I stopped talking before I began to cry.
"Does... anything live in there now?" he asked.
"No. Nothing lives there." I told him. We stood in silence awhile, just looking. The breakers rolled in with a sickening sound, like an old man eating without his teeth in. They slid back slowly, leaving thick streaks behind.
After a short time he said to me; "Still, it sounds really nice, I wish I could have seen that."
"Me too, son."