Darkness was upon us, the last beams of light shone down the street as the giant golden orb settled into the ocean, only to shine elsewhere. The waves crashed on the shoreline, each sounding different to the next. The last few beachgoers were starting to walk up the sand, mottled grey-blue in the dying light, and I thought to myself – “lucky”. My wheels squelched on the few grains of grit that lay on the path. “I love this part of the day”, I thought. It meant I could just be me, who I was inside this shell. It brought back memories. Good memories.
… I was just starting to excel, starting to win a few comps here and there, and I loved every bit of it. That feeling you got when you jumped in, the water displaced around the fibreglass board, the cool refreshing splash hitting my face then slowly seeping into my wetsuit, adrenalin flowed through my veins. One after the other wave after wave, I sat just behind the break, waiting for that perfect wave, sometimes time would warp into days, other times the adrenaline accelerated my anticipation into virtual seconds. Either way I always enjoyed myself, being out there alone.
But this time felt different, something not right… I dunno, I just put the thought in the back of my head and tried to enjoy myself.
A few good waves came and went, yet my board only cruised down a solitary breaker – the customary emptiness never came. My head was normally clear when I surfed, thoughts replaced by rushing seawater, doubts erased by coarse sand. But it wasn’t like that. Something was troubling me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. The wave had finally run out, I floated off the back and completed the long, strenuous paddle back out behind the breakers. An eerie calm overtook the ocean - the waves disappeared into the depths taking their roars of complaint to the seafloor. No little 1 or 2 footers, I mean flat as a board. My...
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