The ocean is strong. The ocean is vast. The waves tug on your legs, pulling you out towards the open water. The sun glints off the waves. You turn to walk away, the retreating waves tripping you up. The ocean is strong. The ocean is hungry.
The fog comes quickly, and you close your blinds. The sun is hidden and you don’t dare look outside. You did once. You still have nightmares.
The sun is setting and the forest casts shadows on the road in front of you. You turn on your high beams and go faster. You feel eyes watching you from the dark trees, but you don’t look. You never look. They don’t like to be seen.
Yesterday it was bright and sunny, and you worked in your garden. Today, the rain pours down, and your new plants are drowning. The ones that are left, at least.
You walk along the sidewalk, taking in the smell of freshly fallen rain. You spot strange tracks in the mud, but you only walk faster. You have never seen what leaves those tracks. You aren’t sure you want to.
The rain hammers against your roof. That’s what your mother says. She doesn’t look at you as she locks the door. The rain grows louder.
You listen to the sounds of the night: howling coyotes, hooting owls, and chirping crickets. You close your window and go to bed when you start to hear the screams.
There is always water. There are puddles in your lawn. The riverbank seems to be closer today. It’s raining. You don’t remember the last time you saw the sun. There is always water.
You sweep up the pine cones covering your lawn. You pile them up and burn them. That’s the only way to get rid of them. The next day, your lawn is covered again.
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