precious, or more than one precious thing, drifting away from him like
wood floating aimlessly on the rough sea currents, carrying it away into
the horizon never to be seen again. And if he tried to search for those
pieces of wood, he would have to search forever and even if he did find
any they wouldn't be the right one. What if the wood was taken deep
into the dark abyss of the ocean and swallowed up in it's darkness? Or
what if it was stolen from the sea and he would still believe it was
there amongst the water?
Tears flooded his eyes. Not morphing
into a waterfall down his cheeks just yet. His heart pounded as the
pieces got smaller and smaller. And then another force dragged him away
from the beach. Back into shadows of buildings. He reached out his hand
towards the ocean. Gripping onto the sun but he could not feel it's
warmth in his palms. It had slipped away from him, just as those
precious pieces did.
He then woke up.