But for the color, snow which has been melting upon the ground for a week or so has a near identical appearance to sand on a beach… And both in reflection of a late afternoon sun appear the same. Waves of time lapped against his brow, and soon he was standing on both land and sea…
He used to dream often of the beach in winter as a child. He would wake right at the climax of the most satisfying moment, wake to a cold dark winter morning full of fatigue and pointless activities. And the beach would fade, but his depression of that moment would not, it was the only anchor across time and space for him.
He was floating again; near the shore ready to set off towards the island. Things had already gone wrong though as his luggage was left on shore with the people who were standing there watching him and his friend set sail. There were others setting sail as well, others around him; of those others, there were some who were close to him and whom he knew.
They were then on a shore with a house, a sprawling house with a deck overlooking jungle. And they were in the house, but something was not right. They were looking for something or trying to finish up before catching a boat away or their words seemed to slide right off or around the souls of their interlocutors. Finally, it became clear to him that they had not only reached the wrong island, but they had in fact gone the exact opposite direction that they were supposed to such that they were twice as far away from their destination as they were at the start. And there was a boat to catch but goodness was it on this side of the island or the other, and did we need to bring those things we found in the house or not and wait why was I heading back towards the house now? The map, he showed me the map and it showed we were on the island in the wrong direction. Something was wrong, terribly terribly misplaced and wrong.
The school day ended and he commenced a common task, finding a proper vehicle for arriving home. And two women approached him, Monica and Ashley. Monica he knew as she was in his 6th grade homeroom and he sat next to her for much of that year. Ashley he realized he knew as well as she was also in his class, but he had not thought of her for at least fifteen years much as Monica. And yet here they were, fully grown women coming up to him under the awning outside his highschool. Ashley wore her overdone eyeliner just as she had in 6th or 7th grade. He hadn’t thought of that and really wouldn’t have been able to remember any of those details about her save for this encounter in his dream world. And the world was ending now as his dog nudged him awake.
They were Fully grown; how bizarre.