Inertia

All is different, taste, touch, smell.. I can feel everything.. and I can feel nothing at all. It’s as if I’m lost in the fabric of time, swept between worlds where no one can see me or hear me, which makes me wonder if I really exist at all.

The pain is ever present, a constant concerto of warped emotion, a preamble of loneliness that dissects the very center of my core, one which leads me from utter astonishment to overwhelming sorrow.

For more than a day I was swept from wave to white capped wave, kept afloat by a single piece of wood that looked to have once been part of the ships deck. Thirst burned in the back of my throat, and once pale ivory flesh became red and blistered with the anger of lar torvis above. Death would not come quickly, not unless I allowed myself to sink beneath the sea, to let go of a life that continued to steer me in the wrong direction. But I could not. Something inside me resisted the urge to die.

I wanted to live.

Even if death would have been more humane.

One is never more humbled then when at the feet of a greater power, and I was prone, prostrated at the foot of the greatest power of all, the wrath of nature.

At first, when my feet had scraped against the first dregs of land, I was sure the beasts of the deep had come to claim me, weaving their way through tempered nightmares to the open waters of my thoughts. Thin wiry up sprigs of coral sliced across my ankles and the broken shells of a cutting sandy bottom played havoc with the soles of my feet. But shore was there, a distant dream of survival that pulled me ever inward, until at last I lay on the dusk lit beach of my salvation.