【conch】

The sea howled and choked.
A lone boat and the setting moon, the swaying gunwale churning the water. The moon had reached the end of the world, leaving only half its face, like a child's bitten edge on a biscuit, the clouds like teeth marks. Jia Hailuo, her round, unadorned body hanging from the gunwale, resting against the crossbeam, one end supporting her, the other dangling in mid-air, as fresh and tender as a white jellyfish.
When did she take off her pants!
Lei Zi's heavy breathing lifted the sinking moon. So satisfied, so content. The distance between Hailuo's red navel and the tiny black shadow below it gradually widened, the angle increasing. Her hands were nailed to the crossbeam, afraid that the swaying would drag her into the nightmarish sea.
The dim yellow of the setting moon spread over her smooth skin, over her rosy breasts, circling the towering peaks, like a girl wearing a red hat. It can be said without concealment that Hailuo's breasts and her nipples were, and also, a beautiful golden triangle. All of this stirred up Lei Zi's stomach acid again. Two gusts of cold wind rushed in from his corner. He swallowed, then pulled away from Hailuo, half-bowed, straddling the crossbar, revealing his black teeth, and pressed heavily against Hailuo again.
The moon sank, and the sea roared. Darkness enveloped the horizon, and the cries of seabirds tore through the long distance, seemingly heading towards the islands. Darkness descended again from the opposite islands, enveloping the fishing boats towed by long ropes.
Hailuo was terribly dry.
Lei Zi seemed to want to take her entire body parts out and then stuff them back in. She spread her legs as wide as possible. But Lei Zi, like a ferocious tiger shark, captured the tender sea cucumber. She pushed Lei Zi away forcefully and said sadly,
"Dad, it hurts."
Lei Zi's nerves contracted.
At the moment Hailuo called him Dad, his banana-boat-like organ wriggled back, reluctantly leaving the melee, the unsuccessful extension shattering Lei Zi.
Sixteen years ago, in winter, Lei Zi retrieved a baby conch shell abandoned in swaddling clothes—to be precise, she was only the size of a conch shell at the time—and brought her back to the fishing boat. Through wind and rain, she endured the harsh conditions of the South China Sea. The sea blew her into a beautiful young woman, imbuing her with the open-mindedness of a fisherwoman.
That wretched night, Lei Zi returned from drinking on a neighboring boat, climbed onto the bunk, and touched a pair of tender feet. The bright moonlight shone through the boat window onto a rosy face. It was Conch, her breasts partially hidden, revealing half a rosy nipple, the white light surrounding the rosy halo like the moon after rain. She slept peacefully.
She slept with her mother in her father's bed.
Her mother was hunched over, her old face still long in her deep sleep. Lei Zi, as if intoxicated, gently woke the sleeping Conch. He led her to the crossbeam on the ship's side. Conch, on the crossbeam, couldn't move. Lei Zi's desire broke through the shackles of restraint. On one side was the sea, on the other the hard planks of the ship. The exposed conch shell, like an autumn insect, huddled in the crossbeams, or like fat meat on Lei Zi's chopping board. Startled, the conch shell didn't even have time to utter a sound before letting out a pig-like scream, transforming from a girl into a woman.
Lei Zi's rough impulse soothed his nerves.
The conch shell's throat tightened, her stomach churning.
"Dad, I feel like throwing up."
"What!" Lei Zi, like a weaned cow in the darkness, emphasized.
"Don't call me Dad."
"Do you have any sour plums?" The conch shell's stomach churned, her body turning towards the sea: "They're very bland."
Lei Zi, like a calmed lion, paused for a moment, then disappeared into the darkness.
Half a mile later, the conch shell felt an unusual discomfort in her breasts. Large, rough hands, through her clothing, almost flattened her entire breast. Then, she was choked by something foreign. In the darkness, she was dragged onto a fishing boat and headed towards the island, disappearing into the fear of the sea.
The South China Sea was too lazy; it took a long time for her to peek out, illuminating the area. A strong wind had quietly arrived, and fishing boats within miles of the island had vanished. Only seabirds sang softly. The deep blue sea surrounded the island, its light green mudflats studded with coral and bird droppings. The wind whipped through the island's climbing vegetation; several tall coconut trees swayed and twisted in the wind, like a neighbor's sunflower fan. The clamor of seabirds mingled with flying coral dust, spreading across the wind-swept sky and sea. The rough, guttural roar of cows broke the sea's howl; their long, thick hair, covered in bird droppings, crawled along the path through the bushes, heading deeper into the coconut grove. The thatched huts beneath the coconut palms swayed in the wind.
The conch shell's eyelids, like the slowly opening gates of a conquered city, gradually swelled. Her face looked like a knotted rope. She painfully stepped out of her conscious mind, only to find herself completely bewildered.
Where was she?!
She exclaimed in surprise! Was she dead?
Rain, carrying the salty scent of the sea, swept across the coconut grove. The bushes among the coconut trees were draped in a few pieces of coarse cloth. A short, dark figure, as short as cow dung, was tidying up, its back so disheveled, like a tattered rag, and slowly approached the conch shell…

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