WATCHING

On a clear January day, low winter light spreads across the seafront at Broadstairs in Kent. The air is sharp and brisk, and the sea was charged. Two boys stand side by side at the water’s edge, motionless, their attention fixed on the distant horizon where the sea rises and falls in deep, heavy swells. They do not speak or shift their weight, remaining transfixed, as if time has briefly settled around them. Water curls around the slipway, holding them within its rhythm. Nearby, their dog stands apart on a patch of tarmac, rigid and alert, its posture set against the boys’ quiet absorption. While they remain drawn toward the movement of the sea, the dog watches in a different way, grounded and watchful, attentive to something unseen.