I have started taking a new path to walk in the mornings. It upset my rhythm, a bit, but I am growing used to it. I have been going to work as usual, and life is progressing normally. I have not seen him, and to my knowledge he has not tried to find me. I have been trying to forget about it, but admit that I have been feeling a bit depressed.
The news says that the next week will be slightly overcast, with some heavy showers, heavy undertow, and high tides. It's a full moon week. Fewer tourists than usual, people cautioned to not venture out into the water. A perfect time for surfing. My boss is giving us an hour extra off each day. My sister and i opt to just combine the hours and take a day off. She has summer schoolwork she needs to work on. I am going to brave the water.
I look out over the crashing waves and sigh contentedly. There are people on the beach, but none more that knee high in the surf, and very few even that far. It is a good day. I have put on sunscreen, and ate as many carbs as I could get my hands on. i know from experience that I will be out there for hours, and have nearly died die to unrecognized exhaustion before. I drop my towel and dive into the surf, letting out a wild, vicious laugh as the first wave knocks me over.
It is a great battle between me and the ocean, which I will fight over and over for the joy of it, never expecting to win. I am fully aware that anyone who is watching will think me insane. Perhaps I am insane. I do not care. The raw, unhinged power is intoxicating.
I am suddenly aware of someone watching me. I turn towards the beach and see him standing there, staring after me slack-jawed and worry-eyed. I laugh at his worry, at his petty conception of mortality. If he is too afraid to join me here in the water, then he is a fool among fools. I've no need of him. He cannot handle me. I open my arms and fall back into an incoming wave, allowing it to whip me closer to shore. I tumble in the surf, and come up sputtering and laughing with a manic, indulgent glee.
The news says that the next week will be slightly overcast, with some heavy showers, heavy undertow, and high tides. It's a full moon week. Fewer tourists than usual, people cautioned to not venture out into the water. A perfect time for surfing. My boss is giving us an hour extra off each day. My sister and i opt to just combine the hours and take a day off. She has summer schoolwork she needs to work on. I am going to brave the water.
I look out over the crashing waves and sigh contentedly. There are people on the beach, but none more that knee high in the surf, and very few even that far. It is a good day. I have put on sunscreen, and ate as many carbs as I could get my hands on. i know from experience that I will be out there for hours, and have nearly died die to unrecognized exhaustion before. I drop my towel and dive into the surf, letting out a wild, vicious laugh as the first wave knocks me over.
It is a great battle between me and the ocean, which I will fight over and over for the joy of it, never expecting to win. I am fully aware that anyone who is watching will think me insane. Perhaps I am insane. I do not care. The raw, unhinged power is intoxicating.
I am suddenly aware of someone watching me. I turn towards the beach and see him standing there, staring after me slack-jawed and worry-eyed. I laugh at his worry, at his petty conception of mortality. If he is too afraid to join me here in the water, then he is a fool among fools. I've no need of him. He cannot handle me. I open my arms and fall back into an incoming wave, allowing it to whip me closer to shore. I tumble in the surf, and come up sputtering and laughing with a manic, indulgent glee.
