The Ocean at the End of the Lane

This is what he remembers, as he sits by the ocean at the end of the lane:
A dead man on the back seat of the car, and warm milk at the farmhouse.An ancient little girl, and an old woman who saw the moon being made.A beautiful housekeeper with a monstrous smile.And dark forces woken that were best left undisturbed.
They are memories hard to believe, waiting at the edges of things. The recollections of a man who thought he was lost but is now, perhaps, remembering a time when he was saved . . .