CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
He walked the same path he'd trodden for the last fifteen years. Across the grass, to the beach, to see the sea. It was his spot. He sat down on the bench. Everytime he did it had flashed back to that time 75 years ago, when he'd been on holiday here. The time he'd seen a figure in the sea. A mermaid, was his first though. Even at ten he knew it couldn't be. But the longer he looked, the more strange it became. It was as if the waves had taken on human shape and form. He must have been imagining it, he'd told himself then. It went on for so long...and yet it couldn't have, he had logically decided later. He was only ten. He had made it seem longer in his mind. That was all it was, a trick of the mind.
He was 85 but his mind showed no sign of slowing down. His body was holding out well too. He had a bad back. His heart had given him a little trouble, enough for his doctor to tell him to take it easy. He'd been fine with that. He liked taking it easy. His grandaughter visted three days a week. That was nice of her. He'd take the same walk every day, to the bench where he now sat. His grandaughter would come on her days, but today he was alone. Alone and watching the sea. Watching for...he laughed to himself. He knew he wouldn't see it again. Still, the way the waves danced...they could fool his mind again.
He watched the waves swirling. Somewhat unnaturally? They were coming together. Strange. And then, no...he was having a flashback to his childhood. That's all it was. The same form wasn't there, dancing before him, beckoning to him. It couldn't be. It was...it was getting larger. This hadn't happened before. Not even in his imagination. It was growing to a greater than human size. Good God, it was a giantess! Massive, awe-inspiring...but not frightening. There was nothing to be afraid of here. He sat completely still. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to look around to see if anyone else was on the beach (they rarely were) to see if anyone else saw. He dind't WANT anyone else to see this. It was his. Was he going to die? Was that why it had come back to him? He didn't feel ready. And then, just like that, it was sinking. Going back to the sea from whence it came. Getting smaller...he couldn't let it leave him! He got up. It was back to human size now, as it had been 75 years ago. No! He ran. It was going now, faster, he couldn't reach it. Only an arm remained, reaching, groping...towards him! His feet were wet. He was so close. What was that noise? A warning voice? He didn't care. He dived! He nearly touched the hand...but came up short. It was gone and he had smacked his head on a rock under the water. His back was gone. He could feel his chest tingling. Water going into his lungs...this was the end of him.
Then he was flying. That was death? It had happened fast. He could see the sea below him. He was flying above it. He was...he was being lifted! He could see a great face before him. He was in the hand, the hand of the sea-giantess. He looked at the face. It was beautiful. He looked deeper. It almost looked like his wife, long sinced passed. Or was it his daughter? His grandaughter? He was going down. He was going to hit the land. It was overwhelming. Surely his heart wouldn't be able to take this? It was pouding like it hadn't in years. Suddenly, everything went black.
He was standing in front of the bench. He was alive. His back, his heart, were fine. The sea was normal. What had just happened? Imagination. Of course. At 85 his imagination was not only as vivid as ever, but he was capable of inventing new and wilder daydreams than ever before. He felt proud. He would go on for many years to come and love every day. Yes, he had imagined it all yet again.
But why were his clothes wet?
He was 85 but his mind showed no sign of slowing down. His body was holding out well too. He had a bad back. His heart had given him a little trouble, enough for his doctor to tell him to take it easy. He'd been fine with that. He liked taking it easy. His grandaughter visted three days a week. That was nice of her. He'd take the same walk every day, to the bench where he now sat. His grandaughter would come on her days, but today he was alone. Alone and watching the sea. Watching for...he laughed to himself. He knew he wouldn't see it again. Still, the way the waves danced...they could fool his mind again.
He watched the waves swirling. Somewhat unnaturally? They were coming together. Strange. And then, no...he was having a flashback to his childhood. That's all it was. The same form wasn't there, dancing before him, beckoning to him. It couldn't be. It was...it was getting larger. This hadn't happened before. Not even in his imagination. It was growing to a greater than human size. Good God, it was a giantess! Massive, awe-inspiring...but not frightening. There was nothing to be afraid of here. He sat completely still. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to look around to see if anyone else was on the beach (they rarely were) to see if anyone else saw. He dind't WANT anyone else to see this. It was his. Was he going to die? Was that why it had come back to him? He didn't feel ready. And then, just like that, it was sinking. Going back to the sea from whence it came. Getting smaller...he couldn't let it leave him! He got up. It was back to human size now, as it had been 75 years ago. No! He ran. It was going now, faster, he couldn't reach it. Only an arm remained, reaching, groping...towards him! His feet were wet. He was so close. What was that noise? A warning voice? He didn't care. He dived! He nearly touched the hand...but came up short. It was gone and he had smacked his head on a rock under the water. His back was gone. He could feel his chest tingling. Water going into his lungs...this was the end of him.
Then he was flying. That was death? It had happened fast. He could see the sea below him. He was flying above it. He was...he was being lifted! He could see a great face before him. He was in the hand, the hand of the sea-giantess. He looked at the face. It was beautiful. He looked deeper. It almost looked like his wife, long sinced passed. Or was it his daughter? His grandaughter? He was going down. He was going to hit the land. It was overwhelming. Surely his heart wouldn't be able to take this? It was pouding like it hadn't in years. Suddenly, everything went black.
He was standing in front of the bench. He was alive. His back, his heart, were fine. The sea was normal. What had just happened? Imagination. Of course. At 85 his imagination was not only as vivid as ever, but he was capable of inventing new and wilder daydreams than ever before. He felt proud. He would go on for many years to come and love every day. Yes, he had imagined it all yet again.
But why were his clothes wet?
