A delusional monolog of a pondering character

The shorelines, silent, just until another wave crashes into the sand and shatters into hundreds of small crystalline shards that glimmer with a brilliant shine as they lay exposed to the sun's delicate rays. Their moment of glory, short lived, stolen as they are pulled back by the foam that withdraws into the ocean. Leaving wet sand for us to run over bare.

 

A sigh, relief, the world was on mute for a second. Sands drift away into the air carried by the occasional breeze. If only I was that speck of sand, so very careless in the midst of many others. But now suddenly all the voices seep back into reality through my ears. I pick up the sounds of small crustaceans and the wind passing by me, softly caressing my hair along It's path- feels as though it's being ruffled by a proud parent. I notice a few errand drops tapping my forehead in a hypnotic rhythm before trickling down my face.

Rain?... the thought crossed my mind. Yet the sky is clear, No cloud in sight. I wonder...

I recall lying over my backpack with my canteen left open just not long ago, but my memories melted away along with my sense of time. I don't care enough to wake up from my day-dream, since it is my realm - my moments of precious perfection. The waves come closer, and then go away... Like everything I've held precious. Every now and again they carry small debris onto shore that some ungratefully fool tossed somewhere along the road.

I can now see the white seagulls on that rocky island close to shore. Same one we used to paddle to all too often. I still recall the water's salty taste, ironically it made me thirsty... But those seaguls no longer fly in circles around me, no longer sing their song to me with their hoarse voice. I have been left alone.

 

I notice the fisherman standing close to the shoreline, my shoreline, and his eyes lack their prior shine- So completely emotionless. A long wooden stick with a wire and bait is his only weapon and he stares into the deep reaches of dark blue with neverending patience. His mind consumed with some primitive instinct to hunt, to catch a big one.

And while he reels it in, my eyes follow the small ripples tearing through the water around his fishing line. Yet I already know the bait is gone, the fish escaped, never deceived by your disguise. It will not come back, because I warned it once, in my dream.

 

So now I lay, left to ponder. I've come to a complete understanding, but my will gave-in to nothing. Torn from all my materialistic desires I lack the simple ambition to wake up a second day. And now I may only hope to be inspired, but well, I mustn't hope... I must know that my day will come, my time to shine... My small precious moments of glory, short lived, like the drops that form this masterpiece of liquid dreams.

 

Slowly the waves consume my every wish. And...

 

I fall asleep...