Mark in the Sand

The beach had always been Mark's favourite place to unwind and relax. Even when not travelling to a far-flung part of our green planet, he would take time out to drive to the coast and feel the sand between his toes. That soft, but grainy sensation gave him the most delightful dopamine hit and as he stepped closer to the water, and felt the soft, dry sand become moist, he enjoyed the feeling of his feet becoming encased in it, only for the water to splash some of it away.

The salty air filled his lungs as he breathed in through his nose and out of his mouth. He was at peace, and nothing would ruin that for him. Not even the strange goings on over on the east side of the beach in a little alcove that was separated by a strip of water. There were people there, loud, and wild. They were dancing around a fire, dancing, and singing and as he glanced over, not wishing to give them much more than a passing look, he noticed they were wearing very little in the way of clothing. The women and the men were swaying around the fire, moving their arms rhythmically. There was nothing especially untoward about this.

Mark was a very open-minded man, or at least felt he was. As long as they were not participating in anything grotesque or too intimate, he felt it was as much their right to enjoy the beach as he did. He actually loved seeing people out on the beach.

The men that wanted to show off their bulky muscles to the women who really weren't interested and all the sun worshippers looking to tan their bodies of various shapes and sizes. Unlike many people, he also appreciated the children, despite how noisy they could be, making the most of what the coast had to offer. Building sandcastles and exploring rock pools, fishing for tiny crabs, and dodging past jellyfish.

Seeing children making the most of the beach, brought back memories of Mark's own childhood joy of days at the beach with his mom and dad. Well, his mom and dad for the first few years of the life he remembers, before his dad left his mother in strange circumstances that unfortunately for Mark, he never found the truth out about. His mother took those memories and what went on sadly to her grave two years ago.

Mark was still an emotional wreck, it's fair to say, so trips like this to the beach were a necessity. His therapist recommended he make time at least once a week to do so and it was an easy sell to Mark. With his blonde hair blowing in the light breeze, he closed his eyes and felt himself drift. Tide was still low, so the water only lapped and splashed up the bottom half of his legs, without wetting his knee-length shorts.

As he continued his deep breathing exercises and cleared his head of all thoughts. Thoughts about the project his team were working hard to complete, his mother, Sarah the woman he had had dinner with every Tuesday for the last month that he was sure he wanted to marry, his mother, his father, and his project. He was aware of a strange scent that was interfering with his meditation. He quickly dismissed it at first because the beach allowed certain types of self-contained BBQs and fires to be made for cooking. Although strange, he reckoned it was probably some fragrant rub or marinade. He cleared his thoughts again and just allowed the gentle sounds of the sea to infiltrate his mind and take him away.

He was walking through a quiet and deserted place in his mind, where there were palm trees. It looked like somewhere in the Caribbean that he remembered visiting a few years ago with his mother. Now he was thinking of his mother and his father. He remembered that he had tried to broach the subject again after a couple of decades, about what happened. She was adamant that she would not speak about it, no matter how much he felt he should know. They fell out, but as his mother was already ill, he decided to let it slide and pushed those thoughts and questions he had running through his mind all the time to one side.

As he was drifting, he knelt down in the sand and placed his hands out in front of him. Feeling the wet sand bury his hands as he pressed down firmly. A great calm came over him and he had managed to block out the noise of the family close to him who were cooking and of the strange hippies at the alcove to the east, when he heard a voice.

"Mark"

It was merely a whisper and hard at first for him to tell if it was a man or a woman speaking.

"Mark"

The voice repeated.

He was sure it was just his subconscious playing tricks on him, so tried to centre his thoughts again.

Then he felt two warm hands touch his hands in the sand. He was imagining it, he must be. They were feminine and incredibly soft.

"Sorry, is your name Mark?"

The voice asked. This time the voice was clearer and had the soft and gentle tones of a young woman.

He was startled and as he opened his eyes, he saw a beautiful, tanned blonde lady that looked a lot like Sarah, but had green eyes and not the deep blues that he got lost in regularly when having dinner with Sarah.

She had a flower in her hair and was dressed in a small green bikini top and a long, but light and airy skirt that danced gently around her long and toned legs.

"Sorry to startle you. This is going to sound weird, but are you, Mark?"

"Erm...yes....sorry, who are you?" he replied, coming to his senses, and pulling his hands away from hers, wiping the wet sand on his shorts and standing up.

"I'm Laura...Sarah's sister. I thought I recognised you from the picture on her phone”.

"Oh...hi"

"It's nice to finally meet you in person. Sarah doesn't stop talking about you. I know you two have been keeping things lowkey, but when I saw you, I had to come over and speak to you. Thought it would be rude not to”.

Mark just smiled. He didn't want to be rude, least of all to someone so closely related to Sarah.

"My friends and I are having a little celebration if you wanted to join, over there in the alcove?" she asked, with a sweetness that even Mark found hard to say no to.

"Sorry, Laura, I've had a very stressful week, and this is the place I come to unwind and regroup. I would not be particularly good company." he replied, catching the same floral scent he had while he was deep in meditation.

"aw, are you sure I can't twist your arm?" she winked, though seemed to understand.

"Sorry, Laura..." he broke off his reply again and felt a little light-headed, sitting back down on the sand.

"Are you okay, Mark?"

Laura kneeled down beside him.

"I've just not been getting enough sleep, that's all. I'll be fine, thank you" again, he didn't want to seem rude...but what was that smell.

"Do you like the smell, Mark?"

Laura seemed to know what was going through his mind as she put her delicate tanned neck to his nose, brushing her skin against his lips. He couldn't help but breathe in the intoxicating scent. He didn't know what came over him, as he was not the kind of guy to react like this but felt himself drifting. "Sorry, that was rude of me" he tried to apologise to Laura, who was just smiling. Was she smiling?

He couldn't focus his eyes on her. As he tried, her image doubled and became grotesquely disfigured. "I think I need to go now" he tried to reason with Laura who was holding his shoulders down. He could hear her speaking, soothing him with her voice, her words were unclear though.

Everything was a swirling mess in front of his eyes, and he felt his brain take him away to that tropical paradise in his mind. Although it was empty and peaceful at first, there was then loud singing and chanting, similar to the muffled sounds in the distance he heard from the hippies and their fire. As he tried to look around in his meditative state, he felt a lot of pressure being placed on his body and felt some sand enter his mouth and as he tried to adjust his eyes, all he could see was skin like Laura's against his face. Again, he felt powerless to that scent and felt himself drift even further into himself as what looked like wood was placed across his body. The last thing he remembered as he went to sleep was the flames licking and burning at his flesh gently at first, before they consumed him.

He was sure he saw Sarah standing by Laura and another individual he couldn’t make out. He also was sure he was not in the beach anymore and somewhere sandy, but different. Everything, was still a blur, though and he was fading fast.

Remembering a story that Sarah had told him a few weeks ago when they were talking about his father leaving his mother he recalled the words of the man in her story - "Engulfed in the desert's parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind”.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: This came to me as I was thinking of what next my NaNoWriMo project needed. Hope you enjoyed it - it's my second entry into the Arid Challenge which you can find out more about here:

If you have time and the inclination, you may also enjoy:

You can also check out the rest of my work here.