
Riptide
Thunder struck!
Darkness.
The tang of salt in his mouth.
The current dragged & twisted.
Froth bloomed from his lips.
Flailing panic.
Heart Racing.
He fought for moments.
Struck at the grip of nothing.
He stopped.
Which way was up?
He couldn't tell!
No way to tell.
Had his board hit him?
He couldn't remember.
Go limp.
Let the ocean take you.
Relax.
He would surface.
Then he could swim.
Swim where?
To Shore!
Which beach?
Where had he been?
Nothing.
Just pain.
Above his right eye...
& the back of his head...
Near his left ear...
Yes...the board must have hit him as he went under...
Was someone else there?
Had someone been next to him?
The tide surged.
God!
The pressure!
He exhaled as it became too much.
A stream of bubbles passed his lips.
Enough.
The choking eased some.
So dark!
It hurts!
When!
How far out?
Time stretched with the pain.
Pressure!
A whitehot line vibrated through his skull.
Salt.
All he could taste was salt.
Almost tasted like...
HER!
He must not breath
He MUST do this!
Breathing would drown him.
Hold it in!
For HER!
He honed his thought.
Fashioned stillness into a bulwark against the weight of the ocean.
Yet time continued to stretch...
He couldn't stand it any longer.
He fought.
Pulling against the cold mercury of the abyss.
Anger compelled his limbs.
No progress.
He'd chosen the wrong way!!!
Shift.
Glide towards the current.
Ride the sea.
That's it.
The trench had to end.
When it did he could rise.
His arms swept.
Shoulders and back burned with acid.
The salt in his mouth made him want to vomit.
For HER!
How long?
GOD!
It tastes like bl...!
He pulled until his arms gave out.
Then kicked until he went numb.
Too much.
He held onto his breath.
He didn't know how.
It had been too long.
It almost felt like he was breathing.
Just a little.
He could only move where the current pushed him now.
He was losing.
He was going to die.
Calm came over him.
He gave up.
His air left him & he fell into _gir’s jaws.
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Quickening.
Light?
Could he see?
Someone grabbed him.
She was there.
Held him tight and pulled.
Up.
Light.
He broke the surface.
Ragged.
Screaming breath.
It hurt and soothed all at once.
Everything shined.
The sparkling cerulean surf cut a flowing line into the bone white sand. Wide palms waved above the niveous bank, while rocks broke through the earth like jagged knuckles. Emerald mountains beyond the tree line rose to the sun.
He could move. So he did.
She helped him for a while. Closing the distance to the shore with every push of the tide. She let go of him when they were close to it. She spun in the water, scattering sunlight. Celadon eyes flashing at him. He loved those eyes. She giggled from the throat in that way she did...
She stood in the surf, and ran towards the beach. Naked body glistening. He never could make her wear a goddamned thing.
He pulled himself from the water, through the sand, and fell on his towel. He looked back out into the clear swells...why hadn't he been able to see?
A deep sigh drew his attention back to her. She handed him something cold to drink from the cooler. He washed the salt from his throat.
She stretched her long frame out next to his. She had no shame as she offered herself to the aruluent sun's warm caress. Her full breasts settled on her ribcage, and he admired her bronze figure. Her hipbones arched from her flat belly, and gave way to her endless legs. Those hips that had sheltered Her, once upon a time. Her stomach hadn't been so flat then. She was his amazon. Why would he want to make her wear clothes?
He looked around.
"Where is everybody?" he asked.
"They're coming." she replied
"When?"
"Soon."
A shock of fear bolted through him.
"Where is She?" he asked alarmed. His head whipped around searching the shoreline.
"She's with everyone else. She's coming. Rest a bit."
He was tired, so he did. Dreams took him.
When he woke, the sun had fallen behind the mountains, and evening would come soon. He gathered wood set a fire. It was a small blaze, warm, with little smoke and flames that flickered pleasantly. He looked around and saw his fishing rod propped amongst others by a log, right near her blue longboard and his Hobie. The tide was going out so he entertained the idea of casting to see what he would catch.
Embers floated from the blaze like fireflies. Slowly, as the flames mesmerized him, whispers came to his ear as the sun set. By some strange acoustic sorcery, he thought he could hear voices. Rising from the fire, or was it the tide, or both? It sounded like people. Talking. Laughing & crying. He was so hypnotized by the sensation that the whispers began to sound familiar, like voices he knew, but the thought was discarded before it was fully examined. She was stirring from sleep. His consciousness encompassed her. His eyes swept across every curve; groped her. She yawned, and looked at him. Her eyes searched his. She laughed, twisted, and was on her feet in an instant. She sprang down the beach. He followed, dropping his board shorts as he went. No one would be here that soon.
Writen by Zack H. and dedicated to Aeneas and Julie.