"The wind picked up. The grass swirled, bent, (danced, almost) caressed his cheek as they brushed on each side of his face.
Then, he heard; he didn’t hear a voice, not with his ears, his brain, his head: he heard it with his chest, through his spine, directly digging into his heart. It came crashing against him. It burst through him, tearing his lungs out of him; he’d never been to the seaside but could imagine this was what it felt to be a chalk cliff shattered by the restless sea; he heard: