"Exsurgens terram sum." The dirt and the soil is the only family I can think of or remember at all... My first thought was of my body separating itself from the sandy bank.
At first I was unaware of my form and observed the shape of myself arising from the Earth. Cold, bitter, and salty air offends my skin as if it was cutting through me like a knife to a cloth, and the heinous stench of red tide makes it self obnoxiously present.
A barren and melancholic mangrove thickets painting the landscape obscuring my view of the horizon behind me. The gloomy sky painted itself with hazardous blotches of clouds that could only be pierced by the moon's fading light, and the sight in-front of me was an endless murky ocean with no fruits of animation to be seen, heard, or even felt.
Step by step I walk the shore on the sharp shells and dead coral being the only evidence of any sort of life before myself. But at that moment that was all I thought. "I am alone, and I am aware of nothing more."
As life surely crept back in through fauna, rodents, and eventually to my horror aquatic dragons dressed with razor teeth curtained with a sly devilish grin. Life was apparent but unwelcoming to my presence.
In fact there was no one to match me in flesh or psyche blowing my hope back into an abyss, and discipling my spirit into a nihilistic spiral. As solitude was about to influence my will into giving up, a monument, no two monuments came into view that resembled nothing else of the surrounding ecosystem.
I ran to it, as its growing opacity revealed itself as two boney and long fingers performing the action of making contact with each other. With heavy breath and the sting of sweat in my eyes. I was greeted by not a person but by signage I couldn't read.
In hindsight and with the memory I possess now, just to only realize the sign stated "Caution bridge construction ahead, brought to you by the Gandy Company. Opening Winter of 1924!" My first interaction with man's now everlasting scars to the earth.
YOU ARE READING
Mea Vorago - I think there's something in the Gulf
Historical FictionIn the roaring twenties a mysterious man is washed up on the shores of a deserted coast in the Gulf of Mexico. Disoriented and confused, he is left no other option other then to rely on the aid of a seasoned private investigator as they attempt to p...
