Audrey+P

= **Stranded**  = = By Audrey Piper  =



= = = Chapter 1  = = In the Moonlight  =

Her curls shook violently, her body writhing in agony on the sandy floor of a makeshift shelter. As she fell out of consciousness, a miserable dream took hold of reality. This dream was no stranger. Treacherous and evil, it pranced through her mind; the pain it caused, made evident by the tears that crept down her grimy face. Nearby, a young man balled his fists in frustration, watching her helplessly. He was not one to care for others, but while she lay there, tossing and turning, he was torn. His mind begged him to turn his back on her. Reminding him that she was not his problem, it pleaded that he leave her alone. However, his heart spoke differently, pounding furiously in his chest, refusing reason. It commanded him to watch, instructing that if he stayed with her longer, he could eliminate the pain. Beneath the light of the moon, he could see how her face had grown old over the past months. The shadows of blue and grey tones painted hard lines, visible only at night, along her brow and mouth. Her cheeks, once round and rosy, were now grey and gaunt. The taught muscles along her jaw forced her mouth shut, teeth clenched. All that was left untouched by the wicked artwork of the moon were her eyes. Her eyes were kept safe and locked away as she dreamed, keeping the brilliance of the amber hearth that she contained, to herself. Both in light and darkness, they burned bright like the sun, and with them were the flames of life. Head in his hands, he recalled the day they had met. ***
 * Fletcher sat, peering over his dimly lit computer screen, watching the awkward movements of those walking throughout the cabin. There were men tripping over their own feet as they stumbled to their seats, women managing to store mass amounts of carry-on luggage into the overhead compartment, and children playing with a variety of different coloured toys and gadgets.**
 * He was peering distastefully at a young boy, no older than eight, yelling at his mother, when something disturbed his line of vision. It took Fletcher a moment to focus on the hand that was currently a short distance from his nose. The owner of the hand just stood there, her hand firmly clutching a thin white slip of paper, a ticket.**
 * “I’m going to need to get past you,” chuckled the bearer of hand and ticket, as she waved it a rude distance from his visage.**
 * He caught her name just as she stuffed the white slip into the front pocket of her jeans. Nancy Peters.**
 * Wordlessly, he clambered out of his seat, allowing her sufficient room to get by. Nancy shuffled past him and fell into her own seat, exhausted. Pleased that she was no longer on her feet, she heaved a sigh of relief.**
 * Travelling was not new to Fletcher. As a journalist, he often flew overseas to capture the inner workings of a compelling story. At twenty-five and having worked five years, he had sat next to many people and knew that his computer was a “must” when it came to these situations.**
 * Standing, Fletcher took one last glimpse about the cabin, and finally at Nancy, who was now shutting the window cover that exposed only the view of the left wing. She seemed around his age, with gleaming, golden locks and timelessly bright eyes, which popped without being overly made up.**
 * As the flight attendants briskly made their way along the isle, checking that seats were upright and seatbelts were fastened, Fletcher began to stow away his laptop in the overhead compartment. In his head, he decided that with an eight-hour flight, if the conversation was unsatisfying, his life was within arm’s reach.**


 * Immediately, the pair had clicked. They were both headed to Zimbabwe. Nancy was part of a program called Outreach, where dentists, doctors, teachers and the like went off every summer to be of service to those living in poverty. Nancy had run into many other volunteers, mainly dentists, but among the doctors, Nancy was one of the few pediatricians. Fletcher, on the other hand, was headed over to cover the story and prove whether Outreach was a charitable organization, or not. Due to a recent drought, Outreach was getting a lot of media attention. Nancy filled him in on program details and her own personal life, asking him about his as well. He made some mental notes: smart, pretty, single. As it neared nine o’clock, they fell silent as another topic of conversation ended.**
 * “So, you paid for a window seat, but the view was too ugly,” Fletcher joked.**
 * Chuckling, Nancy responded, “Actually, I thought I had paid for the seat ahead of us.”**
 * She motioned toward the emergency escape. “I don’t really enjoy heights, so I shut the window. I’ve never been much of a flier, but I just don’t like the feeling. Anything could happen and just like that, we’d be dead. You know, I think there’s a reason we weren’t born with wings. I think, maybe, man is just not supposed to fly.”**



Suddenly, Nancy awoke, fighting back deep sobs. Sitting upright, she was able to take in her surroundings and assure herself that things remained unchanged. It was dark, and the moon kept the area around her dimly lit. Her eyes, adjusting to the dark, noticed the tiny mound that she knew to be Ivvangelien, who was now encountering her own share of nightmares. Whimpering, Ivvangelien curled her delicate body into the thick, burgundy tarp that had previously covered them both. A purring noise drew Nancy’s attention to a burly man sprawled out in the corner of the hut. He had curls, but unlike hers, his were tight and as dark as charcoal. She could just make out the rise and fall of his chest that came from each deep breath he took, regarding him with a certain tenderness. She couldn’t help but to notice how undernourished they had all become; their bones looked awkward under the skimpy clothes and thin skin. Turning to her right, Nancy wasn’t surprised to find Fletcher’s bed unoccupied. At times like this, in the midst of the darkness, he would wander to the grove of coconut trees that lined the beach. Far enough, so that the bawling of the distressed women could not be heard, but near enough, that he could still keep watch over them. Nancy slowly brought herself to her feet, and walked along the shore, aware that she was being watched. Suddenly, she came to a halt and settled herself in the sand. Her legs stuck out a distance, and the waves, which had cooled slightly, lapped up over her sweaty limbs. Inching forward, she washed away the sweat that caked her body. Her hands worked quickly and efficiently, moving through her hair to remove the build-up of dirt that had accumulated after a hard labouring day. Rinsing her face one last time, she now looked off into the distant darkness. “Same dream?” The hazy shadow that loomed over her asked hesitantly. Long and lean, she watched as it grew small and joined her in the shallows. They sat in silence, not needing to fill the void. She knew what he wanted: to know of what she had dreamt. Instead, she decided to change the conversation to a lingering thought from when they had first met. “Have you ever noticed how in the day the ocean and sky are like separate realms of blue that are held together as though by an invisible thread? At night, it is all subject to change. In the midst of the night, these two halves seem to blend and transform into one.”

***


 * It had been a while since Nancy had drifted off into a deep sleep, when she was awoken by a somewhat panicked voice.**
 * “We have lost our radio frequency, and we’re heading into a storm. Not to worry, folks, we’ll be flying steady in no time,” the captain’s speech, shaky, as he tried to reassure the passengers.**
 * At once Nancy was on edge. The immediate turbulence reinforced her hatred for flying. The next thirty minutes were long as the plane bravely fought to stay afloat on the clouds.**
 * “We are going to make a few rounds as the cameras reboot, just to avert contact with any aircraft that might also be avoiding the storm, and in no time we’ll be back on course to Zimbabwe.”**
 * One moment the passengers were cheering with delight; the next, screaming in fear as the plane jolted to the side. The sound of tearing metal could be heard as the left wing of the plane was ripped from the fuselage. Punctured, wind freely rushed through the cabin tossing about luggage. Nancy watched in panic as bodies lurched forward and windows cracked open. Her paranoia of flying didn’t often come in handy, but she had read many guides on how to survive a plane accident. The plane spiralled out of control, its insides sucked by the hungry wind.**
 * Wrapping the life jacket around her neck, Nancy recalled each of the steps aloud, although she knew she was inaudible to Fletcher. She took one deep breath as their joined seats were inhaled by the fierce, howling wind. Instantly, her mind went blank.**
 * She gained consciousness, as her eyes tore open. Everything was a blur with the wind pulling at her face, but she assessed the situation appropriate to all the knowledge she possessed. She was still attached to her seat and to Fletcher beside her; she had just woken from the crash. This meant that they were being propelled towards the ocean at roughly 120mph with an estimation of two minutes left upon impact. Luckily, they were fortunate to have been securely strapped in to their seats, which would create enough drag that they might be able to survive.**
 * As the wind whipped across their faces, Fletcher too realized their fate. They both secured their hands, one on the buckle of their seatbelt, the other grasping the string that would inflate their vests when necessary. Nancy screwed up her eyes to try to watch for the separation of ocean and sky as indicator of what to pull and when, but it never came. Instead, they lurched forward, by one final crash as they were swallowed into the deep, black abyss.**

“Where’d you come up with that?” Fletcher’s voice rang in her head bringing her back to reality. Nancy whispered faintly, “When we hit the water, it appeared as though we were still falling from the sky.”

= Chapter 2  = = Out Over the Horizon  =

“Baby,” he argued, “I just don’t want you to get hurt. You sure you have all of your stuff?” “Of course I do!” “Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything? Toothbrush? Underwear? ...Lady products?” He interrogated, eyeing her uncomfortably. “Wait. Do you want me to go buy you some more juice boxes? Just in case, maybe?” It had been like this all morning. Everywhere she went, there he was, reminding her of what she was missing. If she left his side for more than five minutes, he would rush over, frantic, that she had forgotten something else. He would stand next to her, going through his mental checklist, repeating the same questions again and again. It had been the fifth time today he asked if she needed “lady products”. He was being ridiculous! Not but ten minutes ago, had she stepped out of the steaming shower just to find him in front of her, wondering if she needed any more razors to take with her. With a little over an hour until her flight, she was fed up. “With the way you’ve been acting all morning, you’re in no position to be calling me baby! You’re nuts! I’m just going to do some dental work on some kids in Zimbabwe and then I’m back home, watching movies with you, Mr. Crazy. Honestly, you’re acting wild, I’ll be fine. I promise. Jose from the clinic is going. He’s gone before. He tells me it’s a great program, really!” She turned around to face him, but the kitchen was now vacant. Exasperated, she sighed as he stumbled back through the doorframe. He made his way around the small, white dining table that separated them, with his hands behind his back. “I got it!” He said triumphantly, once next to her. He dangled the bright red fibres above his head. “Just what you need, some yarn to keep you company on that long flight.” “Bobby, you’re a nut,” she giggled, knowing he had forgotten to buy her knitting needles. She was standing tiptoe as she reached up to grab hold of the delicate strands of yarn that he had fetched for her, and as her fingers made contact with the plush material, he pulled back, and she fell into his arms. Grasped firmly between his arms, she could hardly make out his resonating voice. “That still makes you Mrs. Bobby Nut.”

*******

= Chapter 3  = = Connecting Realms  =  Fletcher could already see the sun had risen, though his eyes were closed. It was unforgiving as it beat down on this wounded animal like a flaming torch. His eyelids cracked apart, exposing his tired eyes, which expressed none other than raw sadness. Nevertheless, Fletcher was beyond that point; he was empty. He was hollow.  Escaping the blazing sun, Fletcher dragged his feet into the forest where from behind the large coconut trees he hoped he could also escape from the figure that was currently shuffling in his direction.  Her hand glued to her brow, she looked all about her as she yelled for Fletcher, but he ignored her cries.  Instead, he trudged through the forest, where there were row upon row of rough, browned trunks rooted to almost every inch of soil. As he walked further, the trees were further distanced and green orbs of colour here and there covered the moist ground. In a few minutes, the trees broke through to an empty area where there were plenty coconuts: ripe and jade, bristly and russet, eaten and decaying.  He could just make out a creature sitting at the base of a tree at the other end of the clear patch. Could there be other people on the island that they didn’t know about? Excited shivers raced down his spine. Maybe there were others, he thought, others from the crash!  “Hello?” Fletcher called out in a panic.  “Hello?” a soft voice squealed. “Uh, I just thought I should get more coconuts. We were running low...”  Fletcher’s brow furled. Ivvangelien always went out gathering the coconuts. If there were others in the area, how could they not have run into her? They were so close to the shelter, how could they not have seen it?  The voice returned, wavering a little, “Jose...? Jose, did you hear me? Is everything okay? Have you found Nancy yet?”  The square face of a small girl with short, ebony coloured hair popped up next to the tree. She looked quizzically at Fletcher, her jaw dropping.  “Fletcher?”  “Ivvangelien?”  “Oh my goodness! Where have you been? Nancy has been searching for you for hours! We’ve all been worried sick!”  “Look,” Fletcher snarled, “I don’t need any pity from you or from her. I found a mirror, and the first thing I’m going to do is to start a fire. I want get out of this Hellhole and forget this ever happened, so I’d appreciate it if you left yourself out of my business in the meantime!”  “Do you really think that you’re the only one who’s torn and broken here? That you’re the only one allowed to feel pain? This yarn was the last thing Bobby gave me before I left. He was so focussed on making sure my flight was packed with the things I love to do best that he didn’t even remember that I lost my only pair of knitting needles. This yarn is all that I have left in the world of the people I love. If I were to die on this island, I would die alone. It’s been three weeks already? He must already think I’m dead. I understand exactly what you feel like because I know how it feels to love someone, just to be forced apart. Take this and go make your fire. Save yourself before it’s too late.”  Although Ivvangelien’s crippled leg made her movements awkward, her actions still commanded attention as she thrust a fistful of dull red yarn, so overplayed with it was a tangle of dried out fibres, into Fletcher’s empty hands, and left. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";">When Nancy appeared beside him, he was still staring, dumbfounded, at the mess of thread in the palms of his hands. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Hey,” she started, hesitating slightly. “I should have known. I’m sorry.” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Do you still have your flight ticket?” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Pardon me?” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Your boarding ticket from the flight. Do you still have it? I need it.” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Nancy’s hands flew to the front pocket of her jeans; inside she felt the thick folds of her crumpled ticket that she had put there so long ago. Pulling it out, she examined its shriveled, dehydrated state, and passed it on to Fletcher. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Listen, Fletcher, can we please talk now? You had me worried sick all night. On this island, all we have left are each other. You have no right to run off like that... Did you hear me?” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Her words were met with silence, as Fletcher observed the paper, mesmerised. This would work much better than the yarn, he thought greedily. Paying no heed to her calling voice, Nancy was left behind; Fletcher had gone.
 * Ivvangelien woke up from her stupor, and stuffed the knotted, red strings into her dirtied sneakers before putting them back on. She had been resting a while now, and knew that the others wouldn’t be very pleased if they came back from their “grand” expedition, and she had been off daydreaming rather than collecting food.**
 * Massaging her rump, she stood on her feet and looked about her. Strewn between the trunks, were tens of young, ripe coconuts. Although they were stranded on some God forsaken island, they were lucky, she thought; at least they weren’t stranded on a fruitless island.**
 * Ivvangelien added a few more of these green orbs to her coral-coloured pail and made her way through the shaded grove, back to the hut.**
 * Walking in and between the coconut trees, she didn’t have to worry about being scorched by the fuming sun. They lined the beach for as far as the eye could see. Other than the ocean and the coconuts, there were no other sources of water, so they were fortunate to have an abundance of both. The island was large and Ivvangelien was sure that there were other survivors, but the others weren’t as certain. They had spent days walking in either direction to see if they could get around the island, but there was just no luck. Jose had once suggested cutting across the forest rather than migrating over the beach, but this shortcut was deceiving. Once you had walked through the forest of palms and songbirds, you would reach the most beautiful meadow that sat on top of some rolling hills. As alluring as it was, it was impassable. Not only was the meadow full of vicious snakes and hungry insects, but opposing the scenic foothills, were a spine of crooked mountains, where the land was barren and treacherous. Either way, a trek of that sort was out of the question for Ivvangelien who had broken her shin from the crash. Nancy had made her a splint by getting two tree branches and tying them on either side with Jose’s shirt.**
 * She peered down at her leg now as she hobbled into the shelter. It was covered in bruises of black and blue and ached, but was really the least of her worries. All she needed to remember was to survive.**
 * She propped herself in the corner of the shelter, her bottom on the burgundy tarp that they slept under at night, not so much as for warmth than for comfort.**
 * Pulling the Swiss army knife from out of the pail, and whittling away at one of the coconuts, she analyzed her situation. She and three others had made it alive. Two dentists, one doctor, and a journalist. They had been living here on this damn island for over a week, eating no more than the coconut milk and it’s creamy meat that Fletcher never failed to remind her was the “endosperm”.**
 * She hated him; she hated all of them. Here they all were stuck together, and she had never felt more alone in her life. They were all so obvious in their feelings for one another. Ivvangelien could read them like the back of a book. The enamoured looks Nancy and Jose had were all too familiar. Sickly sweet, the moments she spent watching them reminded her only of memories of Bobby. Of course, she was envious of their bubbling romance! Her love life was dead; her husband was light-years away from her. Nevertheless, Ivvangelien couldn’t help but pity how ruined Fletcher was. It was evident that the thin, nerdy boy was no match for Jose’s rugged, foreign features; caramel skin and all. Yet it seemed as if Fletcher couldn’t keep himself from falling for Nancy. Maybe if they could all remove the Cupids’ arrows in their butts for one moment, they would manage to do something useful.**
 * Fletcher entered through the open wall of the cabin. Speak of the devil, she thought.**
 * The hut was made of three walls of interwoven vines, which Ivvangelien had done herself, as well as the simple palm leaf covering that served as a roof. Since it faced out toward the ocean, and sunset was beginning to fall, all you could see of Fletcher was his frail silhouette. His shoulders were hunched forwards and she didn’t need to see his face to know it hung in a frown. Slumping down next to her, he snatched the blade from her hand and picked up a coconut of his own. The knife was clenched in his fist, which scratched at the orb in his hand. Perplexed, Ivvangelien watched him as he muttered under his breath irritably.**
 * “Why couldn’t you have actually done something with these coconuts, rather than leaving them for me to deal with?” Fletcher provoked.**
 * This ticked her off immensely. As much as she pitied his situation, she was fully tired of his ill temper.**
 * “You might as well go and tell her you love her now. You yelling at me isn’t going to make a difference. Grow up. We’re stuck on an island, don’t turn this into high school.”**
 * As enraged as they both were, they fell silent. There were too many words to say in a place where none were welcomed. Fletcher held his hands in his lap, each held tightly around the other.**
 * “Why? Why can’t she see me like she sees him?”**
 * Ivvangelien sat up straight, looking out over the horizon at the two bodies that strolled along the shore hand in hand, loathing them for all they had.**
 * “Because you’re not him, and she doesn’t love you.”**
 * Side by side, they focused on the two glimmering souls on the oceanfront. Ivvangelien, no longer felt alone on the island. Her vision became hazy.**
 * “How long do you think he will wait for you?” Fletcher questioned, reading her thoughts.**
 * The two souls stopped, still in their tracks, their silhouettes meshed into one, the corpses outlined by the vibrant salmon sky which fell near the horizon.**
 * “As long as he loves me.”**
 * The bodies drew apart from one another to connect once more, this time held together not by their interlocked limbs and lips, but a passion from within. The sort of passion understood only by those who have loved.**
 * Intense darkness filled the sky as the sun plunged below the horizon. The souls that had once lined the shore were no more, nor was the naive boy that had sat next to Ivvangelien watching the scene develop.**
 * Hardened, this thin man turned, and set out under the starless sky, and the darkness consumed him as he morosely made his way down the beach. He walked until his feet gave way, his body crashing into the sand. Sobbing, he convulsed with a savage rage until his body trembled no more.**

<span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Huffing, sweat ran down his neck, and his musty hair clung to his face. He kneeled down in the turf of the meadow, observing the small fire with pride. Palm leaves, coconuts and a variety of branches littered the lively meadow floor. His fingers gripped the slender handle of a rusted silver dental mirror.

<span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> For weeks that followed, Fletcher would sit, tending to his fire. When the fire was large enough that he could leave for periods at a time, he would rest at the shelter eating freshly cut coconut meat, but Fletcher felt more comfortable in the meadow, where the slithering snakes didn’t mind him, and he was left to ponder alone. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";">*** <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> He rubbed his jaw in disbelief, spitting a mixture of coconut milk and bloody saliva onto the ashen ground surrounding the blazing fire. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";">All he had wanted was to confront the dude. It made him angry to see Nancy so upset, so it wasn’t his fault that a couple words, “coward” and “arrogant”, had come up. Had he known that Fletcher had liked Nancy, he might have chosen his words more carefully, but he just thought that he was acting “diva” because he had built the fire, and that his diarrhea was acting up again. Hit me and be sorry, thought Jose with a smirk. The noise still sounded in his head - the crunch of Fletcher’s nose; the feel of broken bone against his closed fist. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Carelessly, he made his way through the meadow, gathering palms to add to the inferno that already was, when he tripped on a branch and toppled over. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Rising to his hands and knees, he started picking up the palms that had slipped out of his hands, when he spotted something red in the middle of a patch of wild grass next to him. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Mesmerised, he crawled through the tall grass to reach the little red thing. Extending his arm, fingers outstretched, he could just feel the fleecy fibres that seemed to form some sort of nest, when a deafening noise brought him back to his senses. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Squinting into the sky, Jose was just able to make out the airplane that was passing overhead. The deafening “vooming” noise of the aircraft’s engine had stolen Jose’s attention, but it was that same deafening noise that concealed the otherwise loud rattling noise approaching. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";">Too consumed by the thought of rescue, Jose didn’t notice the large arrow headed snake, that didn’t hesitate before clamping its fangs around his wrist; teeth sinking to the bone. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Howling like a dog, Jose gaped at his mangled arm. No one would hear him from here, but if he managed to get down to the shore... <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Dizzy and weak, Jose got up and stumbled in the direction of the beach. Passing tree after tree, tripping and falling, blurred vision made him nauseous. Drenched with sweat, he took a moment to throw up, spilling grey milk, blood, and bile. Mouth tingling, he dribbled saliva as he went. The forest grew thinker with trees, a good sign that he was drawing near since his muscles began to spasm. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> When he finally broke through the jungle of coconut trees, he could hardly control his body anymore. Clutching onto a tree, he watched under swollen eyelids as a plane landed. Three bodies sprinted towards the aircraft; shivers ran across his mauled frame. Jose identified which was Nancy; just as he crumpled to the floor, she let out an ear-splitting screech. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Beneath his swelling eyelids, his eyes only captured blurred stills of the people around him. A wailing Nancy, fretting over his arm. A traumatized Fletcher being consoled by an alien-like Ivvangelien. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Motioning for Nancy to stop, Jose said weakly, “Nancy, if I die here, I want you to know how you’ve changed me. This was no way for two people to meet, or fall in love, yet I can honestly say, that even stranded on an island with no hope of survival, I had some of the best times of my so far here, with you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, with eyes that burn like a candles and words that shine like the stars. I had feelings for you since the day we met, when you mended Ivv’s leg, but ever since my wife cheated on me, I thought I’d never love again, and then you proved me wrong. Every moment I spent with you was another moment I fell for you.” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> With his good arm, he wiped the tears from her eyes. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Promise me you won’t die,” she cried defiantly. “Promise you won’t leave me alone.” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “I would never lie to you. I’m so glad to know you’re the last person I’ve ever loved.” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “I’m glad you could be my first,” she said, as she pressed her lips to his for the last time. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Getting up suddenly, she went and sat in a seat at the end of the plane, and silently cried began to cry once more. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Fletcher rose to his feet, and started down the aisle towards Jose. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Holding the knitting needles she found in the seat in front of her, Ivvangelien stared out through the window, her mind off in a distant world. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Kneeling next to the fragile corpse, that carried rapid shallow breaths, Fletcher took both of Jose’s hands in his own. Jose and Ivvangelien were now in very similar places. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> “Have you ever noticed how in the day the ocean and sky are two separate realms of blue held together by a fine thread? In the night, that can all change. In the midst of darkness, these two halves seem to blend and transform into one. <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> Close your eyes. Imagine you are back on the beach, sitting on the seashore. You’re with the girl that you love. The water is playing on your toes. The sun is starting to fall, and the colours that once painted the earth, and the skies, and the seas, leave with it. The moon is beginning to rise. It harbours darkness. All realms connect; cutting the thread. And no longer must things make sense because you are in paradise.” <span style="font-family: "Candara","sans-serif";"> And his chest no longer rose nor fell.