here is a story where you can tell my love of the beach and the water. I wanted to create a piece that was a little different, full of magic and amazing possibilities and convey my passions for the sand and surf. Many a night i have walked the sand in search of trophy fish and being fishing is such a solitary sport I do have many an hour to contemplate story ideas and what ifs. So here is my tale of sea and sand and maybe a surprise or two will wash ashore...
as always , thank you so much for taking time to come here and read my works!
Something Fishy This Way Comes
Take a look at the shoreline on any given night and if the weather is decent you will find me walking along the waters edge. Of course I walk for exercise but mostly because I love being next to the ocean. I’ve always had an affinity for the water. It has a calming effect on me and an almost spiritual attachment at times. Some days I can just sit and look at the water for hours and feel a myriad of emotions and thoughts run through me. There is a longing to be a deeper part of it and not just an observer but being a land dweller the best I could ever do is visit and take and occasional dip. The Oceans depths and wonders are for the most part a mystery and probably will always be. What wonders lie beneath that deep blue blanket of water always captured my imagination and attracted me to the water like a moth to a flame. Lately I’ve felt an even deeper attachment to that immense body of water which I attribute to various stresses in my life. It seems that the last few days all I could think about was getting to the shore and having that great deep blue next to me. I’m not usually one to be so needy in an emotional way but the water was acting like an antidepressant and shortly after I would arrive I would feel worlds better. I can’t really explain it but the water had a profound effect on me and I enjoyed every minute my feet were in the sand.
Of course there are flocks of other people that come for the same reasons I do and I see lots of faces, some familiar and some new, during my routine forays along the foamy edge. Some are strolling towards me or going in the same direction with various tempos and levels of concentration about them. There are those that meander picking up shells or bits of wood and those that run along with a purpose perhaps competing in their own version of a mental marathon. I prefer to stroll at my own pace, enough for cardiovascular benefits yet I’m still able to take in everything I can from the painted sunsets to the myriad of items the sea has washed up at my feet. Each stride brings me to new sights and sounds or smells that I might have missed had I been concentrating on getting nowhere in a hurry. Sometimes I wonder if they even see the sand at all. Me, I see the sand and its variations of colors and hues as heavier minerals get wash out by the action of the water leaving striations of subtle color bands streaked throughout the wavy canvas of sand. The high water line is always littered with all sizes of shells from tiny to large and baked in the sun either whole or broken looking like a beaded necklace elegantly strewn along the neckline of the sand.
The shell line was yet another chance to see the patterns of nature at work as the biggest pieces were highest then they became progressively smaller and smaller heading back towards the water. Endless hours of tumbling in the sand and surf had softened all the broken edges and polished the shells to jewelry like quality. Many were bleached white but the sun and sea but many were intensely colorful and its easy to see how the Native Americans valued those prettiest ones and used them as their currency they called wampum. Now their fate was to be collected as a souvenir or be slowly ground to nothing more than grains in the very sand they once called home. The sea transforms all that enter it be it shells, stones drift wood or wandering souls. Shells are continually ground down as well as wood and metal yet souls can be enhanced by the power and beauty that is a great mass of water. It is humbling and awe inspiring and I’ve always felt a person isn’t truly alive until you’ve stood beside the ocean. Countless evenings I’ve walked the shore and every time I can see something new. Seagulls competing for food and turf or crabs out for a walk looking for a mate or meal. The sea always surprised me and each time I’ve thought I’ve seen all there is I am usually pleasantly surprised to learn I have not. Tonight happened to be one of those nights and it would change my perception of the ocean forever.
For the past few weeks I have had and almost spiritual relationship with being at the waters edge and I found myself thinking of it all day almost to the point of an obsession. At first I fluffed it off as just enjoying the peak of the summer season and my body and mind was sensing the end of summer swiftly approaching. Not unlike the anxiety of a kid when they catch their first back to school add on television. No one really needs such constant reminders of the brevity of such a wonderful season. None the less this feeling was making me take longer and longer walks with each passing day and I’d wind up lingering at the shore before reluctantly turning for home. Often I found myself looking out across the water with a strong urge for something and I wasn’t quite sure what. All I knew was it was lacking and I needed it. I continued this pattern for a while until one night I suspected it was something much more supernatural at work.
One night I had wandered far past my usual section of where I would turn around and now the sun was long gone as I started retracing my steps back towards home. After a little while the moon came to my rescue and while not quite full it bathed the land and seascape with its yellowish warm illuminating glow as it rose in the sky. Small waves appeared as if they were migrating in from somewhere out in the darkness to meet their final fate against the steep slope of the beach. Each crest gave up its energy with the sound of its collapsing curl making a washing noise as it tumbled and foamed and left its temporary wet print as high as it could up the slope of the sand. In the dim light I could still make out shore birds darting through the inky blackness just above the top of the water with amazing swiftness and marveled at their trust in their ability to see in such dim light. As I walked along the wet sand I imagined I was walking atop a great sea serpent’s spine. In the soft moonlight I could see it laid out before me showing me the way home with its gentle curves and its bony backbone awaiting my footsteps while its huge body rested beneath me and held back the sea on one side. By this time my eyes were acclimated to the dark so too were my other senses. The night air felt and tasted cooler and the quite lapping of the waves kept my walking pace like a metronome. I could sense a rhythm to the natural world as I meandered my way home. As all good creatures appeared to be bedding down for the night and the later it got the more quiet it seemed and the more isolated I felt. I’ve never been afraid of being along out here at the waters edge but tonight I had that strangest feeling as if I wasn’t alone.
Every so often I thought I hear something out in the dark but with the soft rolling waves I couldn’t be sure. It was as if something large were moving through the water like a very big fish creating a gentle wake as it trailed behind me. When ever I looked there was nothing that I could clearly see or hear which only added to my sight paranoia. Either it was too dark or it was too shy to be seen and would hide at the mere turning of my head. I tried to write it off as tricks of the night but the longer I listened the more I was convinced there was something there and it was matching my pace as I made my way along the waterline. I tried to use the edges of my vision to catch a glimpse of my shadow and while the clarity of the peripheral focus isn’t nearly as good as my direct line of sight I think it is perhaps more perceptive to things like movement. Some primitive leftover of when we were once prey and needed an advanced warming system of hostile moments from our blind sides. Being at the top of the food chain we have become so relaxed and forget how to use all of our innate abilities. I think we are also trained to see the obvious that we often can miss the trees for the forest so to speak. And so I focused my lesser vision on what might be out there in the dark and tried to get a glimpse of the shadows.
At first I thought my mind was playing tricks one me creating something out on the waters more than just waves and their shadows. But the more I watched out of the corner of my eye the more I was convinced that I did see some kind of shadow on the surface and it was following me from behind just at the edge of total darkness. I wasn’t frightened as much as curious as to what matter of creature was playing at being my shadow and I kept walking as usual so to not startle the beast. When I got to the jetty of rocks where I make my turn and head for my inland refuge I turned towards the water but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary and after a few minutes I felt it wasn’t going to reveal itself tonight so I turned and headed home. For several nights in a row it was the same scenario where I would walk back in the dark and each time my shadow was eventually join me for part of my walk. I was never a believer in the supernatural but I’m sure there are still countless wonders yet to be revealed and I had a feeling this might be one of those amazing discoveries. No one knows the all secrets of the Sea and what surprises it may have in store but I had a funny feeling I was about to find out soon.
After a few days of being followed I decided to change up the routine and I would try to talk to this water specter either to coax it in closer to sneak a peek at what it is but to no avail. I could sense it out there in the inky water and feel it observing me, feeling me out so to speak. Sizing me up perhaps but for what I didn’t know. As long it didn’t see me as its next meal I was fine with what ever may come to pass. After a while I started to look forward to the company of my shadow and changed my schedule to begin my treks later and later and when I started at dusk my shadow was there on both legs of my journey. I felt a certain companionship with my special friend out there in the dark and had this overwhelming urge to do more than just talk and walk with it. I wanted to interact with it. I wanted to share a special moment or longer if I could. I wanted to demonstrate I was a trustworthy soul and had only the purest of intentions. After a few unsuccessful nights I decided to change my tack and brought along a book of prose I’ve always had a fondness for and after walking for a while with my shadow out there in the dark I sat on the edge of the sand and read to it. I chose poems of love and affection as I didn’t want to frighten my companion with more heart heavy subjects. I wasn’t sure if it would comprehend the subject matter but I felt the happier material would make the sound of my voice all that more pleasant. I used the smallest light I could find to illuminate each page in order for me to read them and it worked quite well. The only draw back was that it left my eyes unaccustomed to the dark as long as I read and made the water fade in to the blackness as long as my light was on. Somehow I could sense it out there in the dark. Calmly watching and listening to me read perhaps enjoying the cadence and tones of my speech at the very least and perhaps the subject of the works too if it was a truly sentient creature. When I grew tired and decided to leave for the night so too did my shadow and I felt certain sadness from our parting.
The next evening after I had a good walk and then read for a while I kept lying more and more prone in the sand as I read. Being so comfortable I was overcome with tiredness and soon drifted off to sleep. I don’t recall dreaming as much as I recall feeling a gently peaceful aura about me and when I awoke my book light was turn off and they was a small pile of rare and delicate shells atop my book. Now I knew for sure that this was a very special entity I was dealing with. One that offered gifts and was extremely wary and might live on the fringes of what is know and what is possible. I sense it was long gone since its presentation of gifts so I did the only thing I could which was to carefully gather up the shells and bring them home. All day I thought about them and found myself day dreaming about my mysterious and generous visitor from under the water. Often I found myself staring at the shells and wondering exactly what it was that left them for me. I tried to think of ways I might communicate with this creature and what kind of gift could I give it in return and without being able to get close I doubt I could present anything at all. I needed something that could be seen or heard I thought and I got a brainstorm idea. Music soothes the savage beast they say so it must also have a pleasant effect on a sentient being too. That night I decided I would bring my flute and play something for my shadow. While I am not proficient with the instrument I am able to play a few nice and recognizable tunes. Another benefit of the flute was I could play it in the dark allowing me to keep my eyes accustomed to the darkness. I practiced till the sun began to fall towards the horizon and then headed out with flute in hand and an excitement to my step.
I sat at the top of the sands crest at the point where it starts to slope towards the water. With the moon about half full I could see quite a lot detail out on the water and was way more than I thought I would have been able to. There was no sign of my shadow yet so I started to play waiting to see what the night would bring. Not long after I started I could see that elusive shadow moving atop the water. It was out further then usual but it was much more animated with its movements. If I had to describe it I would say it had to appear like it was dancing in the deeper water. I could see it gliding along the surface and diving down and back up in regular intervals as if it was keeping time with my music. The best part was it was dancing closer and closer and I felt an excitement rise in me that made it hard to breath let alone blow steadily enough to keep the music going. I thought I could see what looked like arms and a head and yet the main body seemed more serpentine especially when ever it splashed and dove beneath the surface in its dance through the waves. With the moonlight brightest behind it the backlighting made it very hard to see exactly what was dancing towards me. Closer and closer it was making its way up through the shallows and I tried my best to remain calm and keep playing. I felt like a snake charmer enticing his venomous partner to come perform its dangerous dance for me as I sat entranced and almost motionless myself on the crest of the sand. Inside the breakers the waves flattened out and melted into a soft foamy cream that caressed the slopes of the beach. There it was that my sea monster took to the bottom and started walking towards me out of the gentle white water closing the gap between us with a slow measured walk.
I could see it clearer and clearer as it neared me and as it immerged from the foam I realized it was human in form. I wasn’t as much afraid as I was incredibly excited at finally making contact with my nighttime companion. As it stood there a few feet before me I felt like I was enveloped by bath water and it was almost as if I was floating in the warm calm it brought. Finally my mystery specter came out of its element to meet me and I was left simply speechless. Not only was it human like but it was a gorgeous woman to boot. I had noticed this as soon as she rose up out of the shallow, on seemingly unsteady legs, that it was the unmistakable female form. What a perfect form it was too I thought to myself. Her hair was jet black and long and appeared to be dry the moment it left the water. It also hung magnificently over her shoulders and provided appropriate coverage for her ample chest. Her legs were long and muscular and the made their way in a direct line to me. It was now my turn to be hypnotically induced not by a flute but from the rhythmic swaying of her curvaceous hips which were tactfully covered in a short skirt of shells intricately woven together with green threads obviously from the sea. She was a beautiful creature obviously from a magical realm we know absolutely nothing of and I could only imagine now that some of those old sailors tails of yore had a twinge of truth behind them.
When she knelt before me I realized I had stopped playing and had dropped my flute in the sand as I sat staring with my mouth agape. She picked it up and flashed me the cutest shy smile I’ve ever seen as she gently offered it back to me. Somehow I knew she couldn’t speak to me due directly to either a language or physical barrier which prevented true verbal communications but part of her magical essence must have been telepathic because I felt her thoughts and emotions expressed as eloquent as any words could possible have conveyed. She was thanking me for the beautiful music and for being her companion these past evenings and asked for forgiveness for taking so long to emerge from the water. I could sense a shyness to her and a wariness for interacting with my species as it is not always when her kind have met humans in the past. All I had to do was simply think about my response and she understood my intentions which were to thank her for just the same and she smile in grateful acknowledgement. Eventually I realized I didn’t have to rigidly form complete ideas in my mind as just the raw spontaneous thoughts and emotions were enough to covey my feelings and intentions across that magical connection. As I learned to express myself mentally my rational mind was still was reeling and I wondered if I had fallen asleep in the sand and was only dreaming. With no way of knowing I pondered the possibilities of having such an electric connection in all realms of a relationship from casual to the intimate and she blushed at my thoughts. So did I when I realized that she could tell what I was thinking but she assured me it was quite alright as she could sense my intentions were noble.
Tentatively she reached out the caress my face in a gesture of friendship yet I could sense a twinge of more behind it. There was a flood of excitement and emotions between us when she touched me. I felt her curiosity and hope along with lust and mischief all flashing by so fast I had no real grasp of the cause or effect. She began to explain as best she could have where she can from and why she selected me for contact from the thousands of people that might walk this beach on any given day or night. I saw and felt the sea like I’ve never before from wondrous images of its beautiful depths to its dangers and the lonely vastness that the ocean can be. Still more images of her everyday life and its cycles and the need for simple things like shelter or food to more complex desires like companionship and partner for mating. When she mentioned mating she blushed deeply and sheepishly recanted the life cycle of her species and its need to pick a human partner to perpetuate her species and that it couldn’t be just anyone. It had to be a male of course but he also had to possess an aura of purity and honor.
She continued to explain about the aura surrounding each and every living thing on the planet and I was glad to be somewhat off the subject of mating. Its source was the soul, she continued and goodness and purity of heart were designated by certain hues of blue and the more intense the aura the truer the soul it emanated from. As soon as she explained about the auras I saw her momentarily surrounded by a brilliant hue of blue as if she was backlit by rich neon lights and then saw my own shadow cast from a similar hue of that brilliant blue. She smiled with her whole body as she visually told me her tale and of her existence and how she came to find me here walking on the shore at night as my aura was a beacon shining out across the sea. Further explaining she had limited time to spend on dry land and would soon have to return to the water and not be able to return this close to the shore again for a very long time. I first felt a sadness at just being introduced to this magical creature and learning that all the time I would have was till just before the break of dawn. She put her hand on my chest to sooth me and comfort me and I felt her sense of gratitude at the depths of my feelings and flashed me a smile and a thought which was something along the lines about how the aura is never wrong.
From her skit of shells she opened up a closed set of scallop shells and inside was a pink pearl which she held out for me. She said it would amplify her magic and also my feeling and emotions as long as we were together this evening. All I had to do was swallow it. In her other hand was another closed set of shells and she said inside each was a black pearl. I would take one later to abate any lingering effects of the pink pearl and take the second to totally obliterate any memory of whatever transpired since the moment she started coming out of the water. She mad it clear that it was up to me to do as I wish and to take one or both or none. She did warn me that lore speaks of men that chose to live with the intense memories and take neither. Most of those died alone and heartbroken not being able to give up the euphoria of the pink pearl or the hope that their ocean lover would return which was impossible as the women of the sea could only spend a night on the shore only once in their lives. Others, she continued, took one of the blacks and still led miserable lives as the shock of returning to a non magical realm was too depressing to keep that existence. She shyly added that most took the second and returned to their world totally unaware of what they once experienced and were the happiest of all the participants over all but she said it would be my choice but by the next sunrise she would have to return to the sea forever.
I took a few moments to deliberate and with a smile on my face I tossed the pink pearl into my mouth and it melted like drop water on my tongue. I swallowed the tiny amount of liquid and it tasted a little salty like the sea. Within seconds I felt a raging fire of passion begin to burn in me and all me senses seemed to magnify in their abilities to the extreme. It felt like passion and lust and love were all combing together to fuel a sexual inferno in me ten times greater than the excited urges of a teenager hours before the prom. When she leant over to kiss me thanks I couldn’t help but see more of her curvaceous figure and my body and mind screamed for intimate contact. She seemed to blush at my reaction to her nakedness and then I did too when I realized she could feel what I was feeling and basically read my mind. Coyly and with a hint of seduction she leant further forward and kissed me on the cheek while stroking my hair. I did the same to her only when I moved her hair it revealed the breast it was barely covering. Not only did it appear to be swollen and tender but from the bond I knew it ached for my intimate attention. As I reached out to cup that delicate hanging orb she too felt my desires and put a soft hand on my thigh and caressed it as she brought her lips to mine. My heart raced and her kiss sent arcs of sexual electricity throughout my body.
I felt as if I was dreaming and floating in fluid and I could never have imagined a kiss so sweet as when her pillow soft lips met mine. With each soft embrace of our lips or passions escalated not only from the delicious contact but also from the emotional and sensual transfer of what was truly going on in our hearts and minds. Through the magic of that pearl I felt as if I have kissed her forever and yet still felt the excitement of the newness of the first time. The more we probed with our lips and tongues the tighter we melted together and the more perfect it felt. I felt her desires as if they were mine and the longer we kissed the more we surrendered to each other and the passion. Before long we were entangled together lying in the sand exploring each other inside and out. Both of us use our hands to explore and excite the other and with that excitement flashing back and forth in our minds it was almost a sensory overload for me. Her body was luscious and gave me great pleasure to hold, caress and fondle. My hands were roaming every inch of her and she could sense how turned on I was as my fingers explored her silky curves. Best of all was that I could sense how excited she was in turn not only from my touch but also by how much it thrilled me to have her in my arms. The more we relaxed and explored each other the more incredible it was. Every pleasure was amplified in out bodies and echoed in our minds. We made love in the sand slow and tender as if we had all the time in the world. When I climbed atop her and entered her slowly I couldn’t tell you which sensation was better between the physical sensations of my stiffness being enveloped by her soft wonderful body or the intense emotional bonding I felt from our telepathic connection. There was obvious pleasure and passion but also a fulfillment of primal needs and adoration all flashing across to me in a jumble of sensations and emotions. It was intercourse on a higher more enlightened plane and I knew I would forever be ruined by such an encounter and yet all the better for it.
I let myself get lost in her body and soul while we made our gentle passionate love at the waters edge. I felt myriad of sensations passing along our magical bond and it only heightened the experience. When I started to climax she knew the moment I started to peak and held on tight as I spilled my seed deep inside her convulsing body. I almost passed out my orgasm was so strong and as I regained my composure I could sense her holding on tight with her body and mind. Our spasms echoed each others and so to the aftershocks of such a cathartic release. I kissed salty tears from her cheeks and her soft lips caressed me back with love and gratitude the strongest emotional sensations I could sense as she seemed to be a jumble of intricate and complex thoughts and feelings. the best I could do was hold her tight and return my feelings of contentment. Soon I could feel her happiness take over and sensed underling currents of her contentment and adoration. I wasn’t sure what to think or feel considering all that had transpired and yet she soothed me with her arms and aura. I felt dreamy but not sleepy and felt like I had a million more questions to ask her and yet I was content to stay entwined and simply kiss. After a while she placed her hand over my chest and I got a mental impression of being renewed and then I felt like cool water had splashed over me. Smiling she then wriggled down kissing a trail down my neck and torso. By the time she reached my loins I was fully engorged again and then I understood the meaning behind her idea of renewal!
Her mouth was warm and adept at calling forth my peak but every time I got close she could sense as quick as I did and backed off long enough to keep me in a state of mind numbing pleasure. Just when I thought I couldn’t take this wonderful torture any longer she straddled my hips and let them have their turn swallowing me up. Using just her hips she pleasured me even more so than her mouth and I was soon at the point of no return again. This time she didn’t back off and again I let loose deep inside her My explosions, both mental and physical, lit her fuse just like before and she rode out my spasms atop my hips bucking and bouncing in her own tidal wave of physical and mental passions. Each time I spent myself I she would reenergize us both and within minutes of a cathartic climax we were ready to go again. This time I mounted her and we rolled into the water. With her reassurance soothing my mind we drifted out into deeper water still embraced. I don’t know if it was the magic of the pearl or some magic of her own but when I ducked under the waves I never felt the need to breath. The water filled me as natural as the atmosphere and felt just as light. In the weightless realm of the water we explored each other and several positions not possible on dry land. And so it went all through the night with quick bouts of passionate love making followed by the magical reenergizing of our bodies. I never felt tired or spent and each time was as good as the first. The sensations of the being enveloped by the warm seawater and the merging of our mental and physical love was a slice of heaven and almost to beautiful to describe.
Towards sunrise the effects of everything started to wear off and we held each other while we floated in the water. Eventually the tide subsided and the current pushed us back to the beach where we stayed kissing in the surf not unlike that famous movie scene. When I noticed the sky turning from midnight black to dawn blue a sadness passed between us and I tried to hide my dread of at her eventual departure and I could sense the same from her along with a worry for my wellbeing. She held out the first of the black pearls and I took it as her eyes were pleading me to do so. She flashed me intense feelings of gratitude for sharing a special evening with her and that she was eternally thankful for the short time we were able to spend together and added that she would never forget me. Just before the sun rose we kissed deeply good bye and she headed towards deeper waters with thoughts of joy and well wishes for me in her heart. When the sun broke over the world she dove beneath the surface of the water and disappeared forever. At that moment it felt like a balloon had popped and I realized that the magic was gone. I collapsed onto the sand and slept peacefully for a short while partly a side effect of the first black pearl but also from sheer exhaustion. When I woke the sun was climbing a bit higher in the sky and I felt fully refreshed and no longer under the influence of the magic nor did I feel any side effects of the previous nights events.
Although the black pearl negated the powers granted by the pink the memory of all that had transpired would not be quite so easy to erase. Even in brilliant sunlight the world seemed that much of a duller place now without the Technicolor of her magic. It Kind of reminded me of what it must have been like seeing color TV for the first time and then having to go back to plain old black and white. I guess that’s why most chose to take the second black pearl. How could anyone survive here in drab reality after spending and evening in a richly hued heaven. With the sun warming up the sand to uncomfortable degrees I held those shells tightly in my hand inside which was the final pearl. As I headed back home I weighed my options and tried to sort out my feelings as to what I would eventually do. I placed the shells on my bureau and cried myself to sleep longing for my ocean lover and only the echos her presence to soothe me. Her smile most of all was dominating the thoughts in my heart and mind as I drifted off into a restless sleep. When I woke I was angry and depressed. Irate at the injustice of not being able to live in her realm or she in mine. I cursed the fortunes that be and sulked looking for relief from the hard landing that was this reality. Several times I found myself in front of those shells that held the cure and every time I conceded to swallow the final pearl I could not finish the deed and erase all traces of my amazing encounter at the waters edge.
For days I tried to cope with the burden of my choice and neither drink nor sleep proved to be a refuge. I walked for miles and miles along the water every night like before and got exactly what I expected each time. Nothing but the cold hard silence of the ocean. Each time I would turn back resolved to end this travesty and take that damned pearl. But each time I resisted when I came face to face with that ebony orb. Countless times I held it in my fingers and stared at it looking for answers it could not give. In its shiny darkness I could see my reflection and i felt as if I would lose a part of myself if I ingested that black pebble. So easy to swallow and yet so hard a choice to give up all I had experienced, the quandary broke me every time. The emotional battle didn’t ebb and inch with time and my will to go on was slipping with every passing day. Under the crushing weight of my choice I was beginning to think it might be better to die with the knowledge then to live without the memory. In my dreams I could see her watery eyes pleading for me to take it and it made sleep hard to come by. I had to figure out a way to curb the effects of the experience and still retain the memory of my incredible adventure by the water and after much deliberation and soul searching I figured out how I could do both. While presiding over my latest mental debate I noticed I had started doodling on a piece of scrap paper. After some time of mindless scribbling I looked at my work and saw I had been drawing crude sketches of my enchanted lover from memory. That’s when I decided on how to end my misery and still retain all the intimate details of my encounter.
My brilliant idea was to write myself a detailed letter documenting everything I could recall and several sketches I painstakingly created to help visually tell myself the story too. For the first time in a long while I was happy and threw myself into the task. Once I felt I had every detail I could recall of my encounter onto paper and I mailed it to myself hoping that I would recognize it being written in my own hand and I might accept the validity of the story. I also added details of my life that only I would know so as to ensure the chances of my believing such a fantastic tale. While not as sweet as the memory itself I knew that once I accepted my own words I would relish them for as long as I could read them. After the letter was safely in the postal system I felt at ease for the first time in days and later that night I looked intently into the refection of that black shinny gem and smiled as I popped it into my mouth. I woke the next day not a new man but my old happy self without a single inkling of the tumultuous events of the past few weeks. In the years that followed I’ve read that letter over and over trying to imagine what it might have really been like and often wondered if it happened at all. Other times I would just stare at my sketches and look at that face that seems so familiar yet I do not know the model. I know the letter was written in my own hand and drawings are typical of my style and talent and of course there were things written that no one else knew but me. But the thing that really sways me to believe this incredible tale was in the days before the letter arrived I had had this overwhelming urge to check the mail. A lot.