**Diary Entry 12th June, 2023**
I woke at dawn as I always do, the sky still heavy with twilight over the English Channel. The air was crisp and damp, the waves whispering promises of a decent catch. I checked my gear, made sure the boat was ready, and was about to push off when something caught my eye along the rocky shore.
At first, I thought it was just a washed-up crate or some old shipping container. But the closer I got, the heavier the unease settled in my chest. It was a coffin. An old, rusted metal one, tangled with seaweed, as if it had drifted for years before finally washing ashore.
“Bloody hell” I muttered, glancing around. The beach was emptyjust the crash of the waves and the distant cries of gulls. My first thought was to leave it be and call the police, but curiosity got the better of me. I crouched beside it, inspecting the thing.
A small, corroded latch hung from the lid. One firm tug, and it snapped clean off.
My heart pounded as I slowly lifted the heavy lidand what I saw froze me solid.
Inside were human remains. Bones, scraps of what mightve been clothing once, and blackened metal fittings eaten away by salt and time.
I staggered back, pressing a hand to my mouth. For a moment, I just stood there, unable to process it.
Later, when the authorities arrived, they estimated the coffin was nearly a century oldlikely lost at sea after some long-forgotten shipwreck. Currents and storms must have carried it for decades before delivering it here.
The story spread like wildfire. Locals whispered about maritime mysteries and the poor soul inside. For me, though, it was more than gossip. That morning, the sea chose to reveal a secret it had kept buried in its depths.
**Lesson:** The past never stays hidden forever. Sooner or later, the tide brings everything back.
