We don’t know anything about the person who calls himself Dai Coelacanth. The best thing you can do is to believe that this tape came to us as a message in a bottle, or rather as a tape in recycled and sealed wine box. Recorded in Greece, it said. On a Greek Island, observed by the Gods and the tourists visiting the home of those Gods. A tape almost ruined by the heat of the sun. And its content an onomatopoeic attempt to sound like the undertow that drags all the pebbles back into sea. Harsh it may be, but the dedicated listener soon will find peace in the stream of thoughts.
As Dai said in the enclosed note
“Dai Coelacanth can’t keep his trap shut. It brings him grief. He runs away. His little legs carry him to the Island. It’s hot. Boiling. Spys are everywhere. Spells are cast. Insects rub their mandibles. The sea is calm. Hear life as it was. One million years ago.”
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