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Thursday, January 8, 2015

The Lion and I #4

Hello  and welcome to Thursday.  I'm a bit tired tonight so I've only written a short bit.  I worked some on story structure and how I want the story to move.  I really like moving around in my stories.  Back and forth, the past and present.  So if you can't wait to know why he lives with a lion and how the hell it got to be that way then you might be in for a long ride.  Some of my favorite books kept me guessing right up until the end and I aspire to those.
I do have to work tomorrow so my hopeful Friday blog blast won't happen.  Sorry, maybe Saturday.
Until then,
-Bushman

The Lion and I
IV

Turquoise, blue waves rolled in on the beach, their white crests rolling over the top. Curling in on themselves the waves ride in close to the beach before gravity and the depth of water bring them tumbling into the surf. As they crash the sound echoes down the beach. A spray of fine mists rises from the crashing water and miniature rainbows dance overhead as the bright sunlight beams down.
One after another they crash. The sound as rhythmic as a metronome and as soothing as the whisper of wind through the leaves on a tree.

All down the white sands lay bits of sea life washed up from the waves. The ever-changing cycle of the tides washes out the old and brings in the new. Their daily ebb and flow is likened to the lungs of the ocean- always breathing.

Pieces of bleached out coral lay strewn about along with the broken shells of numerous crustaceans. They too, like the tide, must always be changing. Most shells are shattered by the pounding surf but occasionally one makes it through with minimal scathing.

A pile of driftwood has collected at the waters edge, tossed about in the surf the pieces became tangled and entwined. A lovers fate sent crashing into the beach to lay drying in the sun until the next storm should break them apart and carry them to separate ends of the earth.

A small crab scuttles about under the wood, his red shell flashes in the sun every time he pokes out from under the shade of the driftwood tangle. He searches valiantly for any morsels of food that the ocean has thrown upon the beach. Always in a sideways gait, he scurries to and fro, stopping only to move his oversized claw up to his mouth to eat whatever bit of food he has found. A shadow passes by and in a blitz of sand, he buries himself an inch deep under the white granules. A seagull cries as it floats in the midday breeze circling its way up and down the surf line. As it passes, the crab emerges from the sand and resumes his foraging.

Beyond the surf line, the ocean stretches as far as the eye can see. Nothing is visible except the vast stretches of blue. Beginning at the edge of the beach, it is a shade of periwinkle and changes to turquoise a little further out. Past the coral reef the water deepens and changes to a baby blue. It is still shallow enough for the sunlight to reach the white sandy bottom and the reflection of light keeps the water a softer blue for a bit further. Past the reef where the water begins to deepen quickly, the color changes to a more distinct blue, and then it switches to dark blue and then almost black.

Looking the other way, past the stretch of white beach, lies the trees. Numerous palm trees are grouped together and spread out along the leading edge of the island forest. They are rife with coconuts and the ground is littered with their husks.
Inside the edge, the forest begins to thicken. Palmetto bushes crowd each other for available space, their sword-like fronds reaching up towards the sunlight, which is mostly blocked by the towering palms. Thick vines snake their way across the sands. Every foot or so a soft yellow flower sits atop them. In some areas, it appears there are little yellow highways that disappear into the brush.
Past the thick palmettos and the vines the forest opens up a bit more as the sunlight no longer reaches this far in. Tropical birds sit high in the trees calling each other as they search for food to give to their chicks. The cacophony can be deafening at times.

A quarter mile or so into the forest the land begins to rise and jagged rocks appear from the sandy humus. Soon they merge together and begin to rise steeply from the forest floor. As the land increases in elevation, the sunlight begins to make an appearance again and so does the vegetation. The vines once again take hold and cover the entire rock face. The land rises even higher, at the top is a small spot, clear enough to stand and take in the breathtaking view of the entire island.

Atop the rocky mount a 360-degree view of the island showed much of the same scene. The island is no more than a 2 miles wide at its widest point. It is only slightly longer than it is wide. White sandy beaches encompass the entire island except for the south side where the rocky hill is cut off by an almost sheer cliff. Its expansive rock wall extends some three hundred feet straight down into the rocks and crashing surf.

For all practical purposes, this is one of a thousand islands that dot the vast expanse of this area of ocean. It is just like all the other islands deemed uninhabitable except in one way. There is something out of place on this island.

On the beach, on the north side of the island, just past the waters edge, is a square object. The unnatural square edges contrast sharply with the soft features of the outer edges of the island. It appears to be a large wooden panel of sorts. The words UP, painted in large, blocky red letters, are just visible from this distance. Next to the panel lies a figure, a man. He has lost his shirt and his shorts are in tatters. He wears a pair of white tennis shoes with ankle high socks inside of those and nothing else.
His hand flops back and forth as the waves lap at it. Gently rocking it back and forth. As the tide rolls in the water begin to envelop the man. Soon his legs are covered and next his waist. Within an hour, the surf begins to reach his face. One cheek is buried in the sand while the other faces to and is ravaged by the sun. The soft spray tickles the nose of the man and he sneezes..




















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