tsvetoslav shalev

Life’s challenges never seemed as daunting when Ashleigh had feelings for someone. At 26, the post office worker, with her milky-white, freckled face, large heterochromatic eyes, and newly pierced lower lip, believed this wholeheartedly. The one who stirred her feelings was a newcomer to Saltmourne—a small, windswept town clinging to the edge of the ocean. The man always carried a camera, giving him an air of mystery, though his awkward posture hinted at inexperience. What surprised her most was that he knew some ASL.

The first time they met, Ashleigh had helped him choose a postcard from a dusty display. He picked one of the coastline at sunset, the orange glow fading into the gray sea. She wasn’t impressed by the photograph’s quality, but he insisted on it. Smiling, he signed clumsily, “Thank you. Yes, this will do just fine. You like photography?” Ashleigh’s eyes lit up, and she signed back, “Yeah. I love how it captures moments words can’t.”

That day, despite the overcast sky, the post office felt lighter, as though the chill briny air had cleared some obstruction in her mind. The stranger’s smile lingered with her longer than she expected, rekindling a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ashleigh’s life was filled with vivid sensory moments—bright, kaleidoscopic lights from vintage wind-up toys and snow globes, the smell of dusty stationery and freshly ground coffee, the feel of hot water during her morning gym showers, and the taste of her grandmother’s cooking. These sensations coloured her world. Any sounds, however, they arrived to her as vibrations. Born congenitally deaf, Ashleigh never had the feeling that she lacked something. She approached every day like anyone else—putting one foot in front of the other.

The stranger—salt-and-pepper hair, rugged features, and an old camera always in hand—frequently strolled past her workplace. His eyes scanned Saltmourne with the intensity of someone who believed the sea-swept town held something hidden, something only he could find. He wandered like a man searching for a forgotten artifact buried deep beneath layers of of long-forgotten time. But then, one day, he stopped showing up.

Saltmourne, with its faded signs and weather-beaten piers, remained unchanged. The ocean’s endless pull, the old amusements, with their chipped paint and neglected games, creaked in the wind, as the gray waves lapped tirelessly against the shore. Ashleigh couldn’t help but wonder—had the stranger found what he was looking for? Or had he simply moved on, like so many others before him?

Unsettled, she decided to retrace his steps. She wandered through the forgotten corners of the town—the empty theater, the rusted-out arcade machines, the desolate fairground, the old Midland Hotel, standing like a weathered monument to better days. These places had always been part of the landscape, but she had never really seen them with such intensity before. They felt like taxidermy creatures, forever frozen in time, yet waiting for someone to notice them. Like Saltmourne itself, eternally anchored to its past, amidst oceans of time.

Ashleigh still remembered the warm August evening years ago when the real darkness had come to their town. She’d been returning home from the bus station after a long day at the university in the neighboring city, her skin sticky with sweat, her mind buzzing with exhaustion. The sun had dipped behind the horizon, leaving only the glow of the streetlights to guide her. The next morning, as she sat eating breakfast, the television caught her attention.

The local news reported a murder—a family of three, slaughtered in their home. The perpetrator, a friend of the victims, had remained at the scene, covered in blood, waiting for the police to arrive. The details were gruesome, but it was the photos of the family that hit Ashleigh hardest—their faces flashing on the screen, happy and oblivious at one time. She hadn’t known them well, but the violence of their deaths lodged an ice crystal deep in her chest.

Months passed, but the shadow of that night never really left Saltmourne. The once lively town square felt hollow, and even the seagulls seemed quieter. Community meetings became more frequent as people gathered to find comfort in each other, but no matter how hard they tried, the town couldn’t move on. The past clung to it like the salt that corroded everything around them.

Ashleigh, too, felt the weight of those years. The sadness was always there, like a quiet undercurrent someplace deep in her mind. But when the stranger reappeared, she felt the ice shifting. She spotted him sitting alone on a bench near the pier, camera slung across his shoulder, staring out at the endless horizon. Seeing him again brought her a strange sense of peace, like a version of the world had righted itself just a little.

She began to follow him again, keeping her distance, watching his silent walks along the empty promenade. The walks became her own ritual, a time to lose herself in the rhythm of his steps and the constant hum of the sea.

One chilly morning, she almost didn’t see him, standing so still near the planters outside the post office. His gaze was fixed on the far-off horizon again, his face unreadable. Ashleigh followed his line of sight, but all she saw were the gray waves rolling endlessly toward the shore.

Taking a deep breath, then exhaling, she walked up to him. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, but then, slowly, he turned. His serious expression softened into a warm smile, the kind that crinkled his eyes.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she signed, her hands moving with practiced grace.

His smile widened. “Yeah, I think I did,” he replied.

“I start work in 20 minutes. Want to grab a coffee?” She gestured to the small cart setting up for the day across the road. He hesitated for a moment, his face flickering between emotions, before settling back into that easy smile. “Sure,” he said.

Her heart raced, excitement bubbling just below the surface. As they crossed the road, she felt his hand gently nudging her forward. She turned to look at him, confused, and caught a glimpse of his grin as he lifted his camera.

There wasn’t time to process what unfolded next. A speeding car came out of nowhere. In an instant, the world tilted. The last thing she felt was the hard thud of an impact before everything bled to crimson.