The sea is quiet, and so is the sky, hooded and close, clouds gathering out over the ocean but showing no inclination for land. Even the sea breeze is still. Holding its breath.
I stayed up late to watch the sunrise, driving through the night when sleep wouldn't come. I ended up here. As good a place to watch the new day break itself over the shore as any.
There aren't many houses around; the beach here is a sliver barely wide enough to stand on backed up against tangled briars and seagrass. It tickles the backs of my bare legs. Brushes, and bites.
There are no birds.
The sun should be rising. The sand is still shaded dark, dark water swirling around my feet. Swirling. Ripples and eddies, cyclones. I wobble, suddenly dizzy, vision blinking in and out like a pulsar. It must be exhaustion. I haven't slept all night. Or the night before, really. I'm so tired, but my limbs do not falter. It's like I'm being held up.
I feel sea grass on my legs. It's stinging now. The wind is picking up, driving the clouds toward the shore. And through a break in the darkness, I see it.
I feel sea grass on my legs. It's stinging now. The wind is picking up, driving the clouds toward the shore. And through a break in the darkness, I see it.
The sun rising, blackened by the disc of the moon. Rising, and already in full eclipse. I'm so dizzy I can't look at it for more than a second at a time, but it's unmistakeable. The bright halo, the sun's hazy corona, licks flames around the shores of the moon, I can't look at it, I'm spinning too fast, heart pounding, broken shells digging into my feet, the blackness over the sun growing and growing and melting into the sea, rising to swallow me up. I'm falling, and the wind blows my hair, stinging, sand in my eyes, the darkness is everywhere, I can't
Stop
*spinning*
I woke up with the sun in my eyes, glowing high overhead, grains of sand clinging to my cheek. I wake up with the sunrise, black behind my eyelids. The sheets were tangled around me. The grass tangles around me. I stood up, fumbling in the darkness, tripping over discarded clothing and driftwood and I opened the curtains, and the sun rising, blackened by the disc of the moon-
