I've always loved to lie on the beach during a storm. To watch the wind whipping the sand up in a frenzy before my eyes; each grain caught in an endless battle with itself. To hear the waves rolling in, screeching their battle cries that echo out across the shore. To feel the rain hammer its constant rhythm against my chest and most of all to feel the immense power of an endless supremacy washing threw my body in waves of passion of which I could never hope to amount to.
What I've never encountered before is the niggling sensation of another's presence. It was this itch at the edge of my mind that made me open my eyes to scan the beach. He stumbled across the shoreline, dragging his feet like dead weights through the sand, his feeble limbs defenceless to the raging battle that surged towards him. I squinted through the heavy mist to see him collapse, the waves rolling over his spindly body and softening the nearby sand of his watery grave.
I struggled to my feet, fighting against the storm that continued in its blind rage. The body persisted to sink deeper and deeper into the sand as I hurried towards him. He was cold as death, shivering viciously and eyes rolled back in his head like loose marbles. His sodden clothes clung to his lanky body, linking him to the waves that coaxed him out to sea. I looped my arms under his shoulders. The sudden weight of a man, sodden and limp, strained against my arms and we both collapsed, waves lapping impatiently at our ankles. The wind's cry sailed past my ears and the damp sand sucked at my empty limbs. The man began to mumble. Senseless words dribbling from his mouth and sailing away with the wind. "John?" I sat him up, cupped my hands around his face and attempted to draw some warmth to his icy skin. He opened his eyes groggily words still slipping from his lips. "Listen to me. You're going to be okay. I need you to stand, okay? Can you do that?" The hazed eyes drooped shut again and as his head lolled back like a dead man's. Then, to my surprise, the empty body surged into motion robotically, powered by an unknown source. His arms shook dangerously as he pushed himself to his feet as if reminding us he could crumble from exhaustion at any moment. Together we stumbled back up the beach and away from the battle of the storm, breaking our way through Danger's cracks and slipping silently from the sea.