"What are-"

"It's a' lis' o' the people who've died 'ere." He cut me off, looking out over the water.
"I want ya to read it and knoo you aren't tha first and wonnae be the last. I've been watching these wat'ers for a long tyme, and I knoo why people do wha' they do 'ere. But ya still have a choice, kid. Ya can still walk away."

"I'm afraid I don't see that happening."

He smiled, like a parent does when they know better than the child they're talking to.

"You do, you just don't know it yet, kid."

"I did my job anyhoo. Kept ya occupeed for a whiya till we got busy 'round 'ere."

It was then that I realised how many people were walking around behind us. I'd been here too long, reading and talking.

"You delayed me."

"You delayaid yerself son. I just gave ya somethin' to doo whiya ya did eet."

I frowned and returned to the book.

"Keep it kiddo. It'll doo yoo more gud than it does me 'arm."

"What's your name?" I asked, but when I looked up he was walking away, his chair oddly disappeared. He faded away like mist, and a cold breeze kicked up suddenly, sending shivers down my spine and forcing me to bundle up into my coat as much as I could. I could've sworn the breeze whispered 'Ben Fisher'. I started walking, confused, a little fearful, and in search of somewhere else to look from, away from prying eyes.