Ben Norman

The Shayāṭīn

I woke up to the strong smell of salt in the air and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I was laying face down in the sand and my clothes were soaking wet. I turned over and saw the white foamy water left behind by a wave crashing on the shore of a beach. I understood the salty smell, but why did my mouth taste like blood? I wiped my sandy hand on my shorts and swished my finger around in my mouth, but to my surprise it left no sign of blood.