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17 Nov 2025

TEETH BEACH: A Stranger Told Me a Secret

by S.I. Rosenbaum

Panel 1: Narrator: There was a man standing next to my table at an outdoor restaurant. At first I didn't understand what he was saying. [Narrator's pov: Against a black background, a man stares out, saying something garbled that ends in the word "shards?" He's thin, 30s, goodlooking in a somewhat vulpine way — largish nose, thick eyebrows, scruffy mustache, expressive eyes.] P2: Narrator: Then I realized he was talking about the fragments of pottery I'd spread out on the table while I was waiting for my meal. [Narrator's pov: looking down at the table. A sidewalk bistro, small table with a placemat, glass of water, tablecloth. In the center of the placemat are a collection of pottery shards. Unlike the rest of the comic, which is generally greyscale against a black background, the shards have the remains of blue glaze decorations on them. The narrator's hands cup them on either side. Her right hand wears a large jeweled ring on the first finger.] P3: Narrator speaks to the stranger. "...These? I find them on the beach down by Praca de Commercio. I think some of them are pretty old …" [Pov over narrator's shoulder. She is wearing a sleeveless black tank and has short hair, and she has picked up a shard in her right hand to show the Stranger, who is showt to be wearing a tshirt and jeans.] P4: [We only see hands, the narrator's holding out a shard to show the Stranger, but he holds his hand up palm out in "wait" gesture. Narrator: "...like this one, look —-" Stranger: "Wait here." Narrator: And he disappeared.

Panel 5: [We see the narrator straight on for the first time. A genderqueer middle-aged woman with short hair in a masculine cut. She's looking puzzled by this exchange. P6: [Same shot, but she's brought the shard she was holding up to examine it more closely, lost in thought.]

Panel 7: [Narrator's pov, looking down at her hand holding the shard against the black night, The blue pattern painted on it shows two horizontal lines joined by short vertical lines, with a dotted line underneath; this is an allusion/homage to a repeating motif in Carla Speed McNeil's comic FINDER.] Narrator: It's just a patch of sand by the Tejo riverbank downtown. A dozen languages blending with the waves into whitenoise. P8: [Daytime. We see the shard in memory, as the narrator first saw it, half-buried in the sand at the water's edge. Narrator: Ever since we arrived in Lisbon, I go there when I can't stand the news from home. I walk along the tideline looking for something old. P9: [The narrator's feet, pant hems rolled up to above her unshaved ankles, standing at the edge of the water, where the shard is lying among other detritus.] P10 [Same view, but she's bending down at the knees to pick up the shard as the waves recede.]

Panel 11: [A wide shot. Here's the whole beach at the river's edge; the river is wide enough that the far shore is hard to make out. There is an ornate stone pier and steps leading down to the sand at left — the water comes right up to the bottom of the last step. It's daytime, with some clouds on the horizon. In the foreground are two young women — immigrants or tourists; one is posing with V fingers, the other holding a phone and taking her friend's picture. They're both wearing hijab and modest dress, one in a stylish dress with a purse, the wind whipping the edge of her hijab, and the photographer more casual in a Nike swoosh hoodie. Behind them, in the distance, you can see the narrator crouched down at the water's edge, alone and apart from whatever else might be going on around the beach.]

Panel 12: [Back at the night bistro, the narrator is still contemplating the shard, holding it up to her gaze while sitting at the table.] P13: [Suddenly the Stranger is back: from out of frame, his hands are dumping a bag of something on the table with a WHUMP!, startling the narrator out of her reverie.] P14: [Narrator's pov, looking down at the table. The bag is slightly open and reveals what appears to be a ton of pottery shards. Her left hand, which wears a simple wedding ring, reaches tentatively toward it.] Stranger, out of panel: "This is for you." P15: [same pov, the narrator is slowly opening the bag, delving inside it.] Narrator: "Are these all —" Stranger: "Shards. I have found them myself."

Panel 16: [same pov, the narrator's left hand is holding up a large fragment of what was once a bowl or a plate. It's a clear white and painted with what looks like a delicate Chinese floral motif, also in blue.] Stranger: "That piece, that's Ming Dynasty. The first porcelain to arrive in Europe." Narrator: "holy shit" P17: [Now the narrator has picked up something else in her right hand. This is heavy, misshapen earthwear, with a hole in it.] Stranger: "That's an old fishing weight. Some say Roman, but I think it's Phoenician."

Panel 18: [The Stranger, gesturing toward the bag, his face intense but friendly]: "My house is full of shards like these. I have kilos of them." P19: [The narrator looking up at him, her fascination overcoming her hesitance:] "...Would you like to sit down?" P20: LATER: [They've both been talking for the length of a shared meal. The narrator, at left, is gesturing while she talks; on the right, the Stranger has lit a cigarette, just as involved in the conversation.] Narrator: "So after the U.S. election, me and my wife, we just came here. We'd never been to Portugal before. And then I started finding things in the river." Stranger: "Ah, but this place in Chiado, it's not the best place to look." P21: [The Stranger against the black night background, holding his cigarette in his left hand between his first and second finger, palm in. The smoke curls upward. He's looking down, smiling to himself. Stranger: "I know a better place, but it is a secret."

Panel 22 [White text against a black background] Narrator: You see, he explained, Lisboa rests on a fault. I knew about this because we'd had a tiny quake a few month after we arrived, the bed shaking in our rented room, Africa pushing up against Europe. [A jagged white line cuts diagonally under the text and continues to bisect the silhouettes of the Iberian peninsula and the Northern coast of Africa: the continental plate division.]

Panel 23: [a wide panel, based on a kabonkers woodcut from the 1500s. A roiling ocean with what looks like laser beams coming down from heaven; the hog-like snout of a water monster (a whale??) pokes out of the water; in the background stylized city towers are broken into tatters.] Narrator: There have always been earthquakes and tsunamis here. A big on in the 1500s was described as having been attended by portents, prodigies, lights in the sky. P24: [Another wide panel, this one based on a 1750s print. A more-realistic portrayal of the city, once again the towers are broken and askew, people run about senselessly in the square as it's swamped by waves, and smoke rises from fires burning everywhere.] Narrator: Two hundred years later another quake destroyed most of the city, fascinated a young Immanuel Kant, and shook Voltaire's faith in the possibility of a moral universe. Incidentally, a few weeks later a quake hit Cape Ann on the New England coast, where my mother would later spend her summers as a child.

Panel 25: [A third wide panel. This one just shows a closeup of the Stranger, with his oddly-angled face and intense eyes, looking out directly at the viewer, against a black background.] Stranger: "Each time when the earthquake came, everything was broken" Stranger: "So they threw the broken things into the river. That's why there is so much of it."

Panel 26: [Close up on hands: the narrator is pointing with her left hand to the large ring on her right first finger, which is actually a piece of seaglass set in silver.] Narrator: "Do you ever find old glass? Or beads? …I make jewelry, sometimes, from the things I find." P27: [The Stranger's hand, still holding the cigarette, which is burning down] Stranger: "I have found beads, yes. Phoenician beads, very old. But they are very hard to find."

Panel 28: [A beat. View from the side, showing the bistro table with the remains of dinner, and the sack of shards. The narrator is looking down, thinking hard. The Stranger is also looking away, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray.] P29: [Same view, but the narrator is leaning forward, her chin up. The Stranger looks up to meet her gaze, his arm now folded across the table.] Narrator: "Take me with you." P30: Narrator's view of the Stranger sitting across from her. He tilts his head. Stranger: "I have never told anyone the location of this place" P31: [The stranger brings his left hand up to rest his chin on it. He closes his eyes, looking weary.] Stranger: "And I will be leaving the city soon. I am heart broken. A woman left me."

Panel 32: [The Stranger, seen from the side, looks away into the darkness, the black negative space surrounding him. The panel extends into darkness on the right. An endless moment.] P33: [The Stranger still seen from the side, but now he and the bistro table fill the frame. He looks at the narrator and holds out his left hand.] Stranger: "Give me your phone." P34: [The phone is handed over. On the face of the phone you can see a map application open, showing the city of Lisboa.] P35: [The Stranger, seen slightly from below, gazing down at the phone in his hand,]

Panel 36: [A wide panel, showing only hands. The Stranger puts his finger down decisively on the map, which we can't see because we're viewing the phone from below.] Stranger: "There."

Panel 37: [The narrator, eyes wide, reaches out to take back the phone.] Narrator: "I … Thank you." Narrator: "What can I do to repay you?" P38: [The Stranger holds the phone out to her, his face oddly intense.] Stranger: "Make me two rings. "One for me. And one for she who will be someday." P39. [Phone in hand, the narrator stands, hoisting a backpack in the other hand. She looks down at the Stranger, her face solemn.] Narrator: "I will." P40. [The narrator bends and kisses the Stranger on the cheek, her hand on his shoulder.]

Panel 41: [Wide panel. The narrator walks home along a darkened cobbled street. We see now she's wearing a long skirt. She texts on her phone:] Text: babe coming home with a story!11

Panel 42: [The narrator is letting herself in to her apartment, key still in the lock as she opens the door. She's excited to tell her wife what just happened.] Narrator: "Ok, so the most amazing thing just happened—" P43: [From slightly behind the narrator, we see what she sees: Josie, her wife, a beautiful trans woman with long hair held back by a headband. She's wearing a tshirt and patterned skirt, she has soft bosoms and belly, and she has delicate soft hair on her chest visible above the tshirt collar. She's weeping silently. It's been a difficult day.] Narrator: [she doesn't know what's wrong, but she doesn't have to: there are so many, many reasons for them to weep.] "Oh." "Oh honey."

Panel 44: [The two women embrace, the narrator, whose back is to us, reaching up to take Josie into her arms, burying her hands in her hair. They hold each other as tightly as they can. They're surrounded by black space and, under their feet, scattered shards of pottery, each one with its fragment of blue paint, incomplete, the full pattern lost. Narrator: "Oh, honey." Josie: "Tell me the story, anyway" "Tell me the story."

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TRANSMIGRATIONS (an introduction)

NEXT:
TEETH BEACH: A Stranger Gave Me a Bead

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