The harbor was empty and full of birds

I'm walking down into the harbor basin and the water is just gone — boats resting on their hulls like sleeping animals, gulls standing on the dry mud where the tide used to be. The sound is all wrong, no slap of water against stone, just this hollow ringing every time I take a step. I don't remember being afraid, just confused, the way you are in dreams when the world has rearranged itself while you weren't looking.