Stone of Old Seas

I pressed my snout against the base of the limestone fireplace, tracing a curious spiral groove trapped within the pale rock. It was no chisel strike. Embedded flush inside the masonry was a petrified shell, coiled and ancient, preserved from a sea that vanished eons ago. As the building settled, a faint, low-frequency tremor hummed through the masonry, carrying the rhythmic pulse of the city's night transit straight through the bedrock. I lowered my ribcage against the cool limestone ledge, letting the dense stratum absorb my weight. The relentless demand for fresh meat quieted for a moment; tonight, the rock held memories older than hunger.