The Hurricane

I cannot describe what it feels like to wake up one morning and know that you have lost everything. For six years I meticulously constructed an elaborate house of dreams without a foundation, build on the white sandy beach of some amazing shore on a remote island. So wrapped up was I in the passion of the moment, I decided to build without a plan, without a shred of self-knowledge, and without the guidance of a builder to aid me in my journey. I was captivated by the lush landscape, pulsating with life and color and sound. I fell in love with it, I had found my oasis. Not even bothering to research the climate I had chosen to inhabit, I ignored the intense tropical storms that began to appear on the horizon almost from the beginning. “With enough determination I will weather these storms, I will build a house where we can take shelter from them, for the sunrise in just over the horizon”.

The landscape was beautiful beyond description, but the island presented many challenges hostile to human life. Dangerous predators, venomous scorpions, weeks without rain, shortages of food, and yet all the while I pressed on. I would not accept defeat. Isolated and desperate, my mind began to unravel once again, drifting further and further from the me I had known and plunging deeper into the darkness, where strange and misshapen shadowy apparitions combed the beach and night. Soul stealers, these beings were accursed spirits of past traumas, never sleeping, forever yearning for a body to inhabit. Only one thought remained after their humanity had been unjustly stolen from them so long ago…Revenge.

Days and weeks turned into months and years. I had become delirious from lack of nutrition and consistency, until my gaze began to fixate on the black endless depths of the sea at night. Its embrace called to me, the waves lapping at my ankles, inviting me to disappear into a deep and endless slumber.

And then one day seemingly without warning the hurricane came...my house was shredded by the powerful winds almost immediately. Broken and bleeding I crawled, seeking refuge in the trees…but it was too late. A monstrous tidal surge welled up behind me, and I had but a moment to look over my shoulder at the wall of water in terror before it slammed down and all faded to black.

I woke early one morning, lying face down in the surf. The sun was just starting to rise. In my delirium I looked around, seeing pieces of my house, my life, strewn about the shoreline like so much garbage. Somehow I had survived the onslaught.

As I gradually regained my senses I was suddenly overcome by an empty, soul crushing sorrow…a pain that penetrated to the very core of my being. I finally realized that my dream had died, and I was alone.