I swam without ceasing around the rocks guarding the island, the looming black rocks slick with surf. In sunlight they shone like onyx, as if polished. In a storm they were flat and dull as slate. I used to search for an opening in the rocks, some small gap through which to slip my body, […]

Original source: https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2023/03/23/the-island-lauren-k-watel/