The tide receded far back into the sea, exposing long stretches of seabed previously covered by water. Children stopped playing and stared at the strange phenomena. Women, mending their fishing nets, lifted their heads in surprise when the familiar sound of the waves was silenced.

            Some children ran to tell their parents, while others ventured onto the newly created beach, excitedly pointing at the large amounts of sea shells, clams and thrashing fishes left by the receding water. The exposed seabed looked unreal. Despite the abundance of food, the seagulls were nowhere in sight.

            More people flocked to the beach to investigate. Many murmured their worries to one another. This must be a bad omen; their fishing would be affected. Some womenfolk wrung their hands, wailing that their husbands were still out at sea. Others looked confused and wandered further out along the new beach, searching for the sea.

            The tsunami struck ten minutes later.

            The towering, solid walls of water, each one taller, more destructive than the other, smashed the coastline, again and again. Huts shattered to pieces by the hundreds, boats split apart, their fragmented timber swept inland by the sheer, unimaginable force of the broiling, swirling water. Like mere grass, trees were uprooted and carried by the tumultuous waves as if they weighed nothing more than matchsticks.

            The roar was deafening. It was as though the gates of hell had opened, spewing forth hordes of crazed demons bent on destruction, brandishing sickles and spears to tear, to cut, to maim everyone in their path. Their unearthly babble rose above the roiling din. Piercing screams of victims were cut off as the avalanche of debris-laden water crashed down and buried one and all.

            The beach disappeared under countless tons of seawater. Everywhere, foaming, churning water rose and rose and rose.