Beginnings
A seemingly endless sweep of surf and sand, backstopped by banana trees. No weapon to hand, the only air cover a solitary seagull, circling in silence.
I still felt the hit, the agony, but my bare chest betrayed no wound, not even a bruise.
No sign of civilisation to left or right, although the direction, the choice, seemed somehow significant.
So, a first step on an endless journey, or an eternity of stasis?
Only forward.
A seemingly endless sweep of surf and sand, backstopped by banana trees. No weapon to hand, the only air cover a solitary seagull, circling in silence.
I still felt the hit, the agony, but my bare chest betrayed no wound, not even a bruise.
No sign of civilisation to left or right, although the direction, the choice, seemed somehow significant.
So, a first step on an endless journey, or an eternity of stasis?
Only forward.