Alone

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ALONE
By D. Hassen
I  drifted into a rocky  shore.   I climbed out of my boat and stood completely dazed, in the knee deep water.  I had not the slightest idea where the waves of the waters had driven me.  I had no choice except to try and secure my small boat.  I saw nothing to accomplish this, so I grabbed the front of my battered craft,  pulled on it until the full length of its fourteen feet rested safely on the sand.
It was my desire to venture further inland but the physical part of me would not let me go.  I wondered why I had been chosen to survive.  Perhaps it was the pattern or plan that was set forth by my Maker.  Yes, I do believe in God. I dropped down on the sand feeling total relief from the water that I thought would be my grave.
As exhausted as I was my thoughts whizzed like a merry-go-round.  It was man’s mistake not to withdraw from Iraq.  The year … 2033.  I just passed my twenty=fifth birthday. Even tho my eyes were closed and my head was  hammering things were beginning to clear. I was fuzzy about time.   Something about a political campaign, and a new election.  Yes, there it was, the Iraq war …lasting years.  The TV stations were constantly spitting out words that meant nothing to me.  I was in my teens when it started  I didn’t fully understand it then. I could not make any sense of the discussions.  I heard, but at my age, the reasons did not hit clear.  I was in a state of confusion.  What did the future hold? I just listened.  Strange how words penetrate ones mind and those thoughts are brought forth years later.  Then one can figure out what they meant.
Nothing lined this barren shore.  It was as if I had returned.  My first visit to an island was  my father’s gift for graduation. A cruise to a place called St. Thomas. It likened beauty then.  Not now, my body was soaked with salty water. My mouth was dry, my lips were parched. My sun-scorched eyes were stinging from the heat and the glare of the water. All I could do was recall the happening.
I went backward in steps, yes, the missiles hit.   Homes, buildings and bridges collapsed in front of me.  Destruction was everywhere. Waters were rising, I ran for my boat. There was nothing to hinder the water from covering the town. Bodies were floating in front of my boat, until they were slushed away when the poles of the dock broke like toothpicks. I was so sickened, I
vomited.  All the land  disappeared. Sky and water and I were alone. My love for boating saved my physical being.  My love for God saved my spirit.
It  was dark.  I rolled over. I was uncomfortable.  I ached all over. What do I do?  Where do I go?  How do I exist?  My most fearful question…where was I?
Something landed on my face…a wet cloth…and then, my Dad’s voice…”wake up Son, you were in a nightmare.”
THE END

ALONE
By D. Hassen

I  drifted into a rocky  shore.   I climbed out of my boat and stood completely dazed, in the knee deep water.  I had not the slightest idea where the waves of the waters had driven me.  I had no choice except to try and secure my small boat.  I saw nothing to accomplish this, so I grabbed the front of my battered craft,  pulled on it until the full length of its fourteen feet rested safely on the sand.  It was my desire to venture further inland but the physical part of me would not let me go.  I wondered why I had been chosen to survive.  Perhaps it was the pattern or plan that was set forth by my Maker.  Yes, I do believe in God. I dropped down on the sand feeling total relief from the water that I thought would be my grave.      As exhausted as I was my thoughts whizzed like a merry-go-round.  It was man’s mistake not to withdraw from Iraq.  The year … 2033.  I just passed my twenty=fifth birthday. Even tho my eyes were closed and my head was  hammering things were beginning to clear. I was fuzzy about time.   Something about a political campaign, and a new election.  Yes, there it was, the Iraq war …lasting years.  The TV stations were constantly spitting out words that meant nothing to me.  I was in my teens when it started  I didn’t fully understand it then. I could not make any sense of the discussions.  I heard, but at my age, the reasons did not hit clear.  I was in a state of confusion.  What did the future hold? I just listened.  Strange how words penetrate ones mind and those thoughts are brought forth years later.  Then one can figure out what they meant. Nothing lined this barren shore.  It was as if I had returned.  My first visit to an island was  my father’s gift for graduation. A cruise to a place called St. Thomas. It likened beauty then.  Not now, my body was soaked with salty water. My mouth was dry, my lips were parched. My sun-scorched eyes were stinging from the heat and the glare of the water. All I could do was recall the happening. I went backward in steps, yes, the missiles hit.   Homes, buildings and bridges collapsed in front of me.  Destruction was everywhere. Waters were rising, I ran for my boat. There was nothing to hinder the water from covering the town. Bodies were floating in front of my boat, until they were slushed away when the poles of the dock broke like toothpicks. I was so sickened, Ivomited.  All the land  disappeared. Sky and water and I were alone. My love for boating saved my physical being.  My love for God saved my spirit.   It  was dark.  I rolled over. I was uncomfortable.  I ached all over. What do I do?  Where do I go?  How do I exist?  My most fearful question…where was I?   Something landed on my face…a wet cloth…and then, my Dad’s voice…”wake up Son, you were in a nightmare.”

ALONEBy D. HassenI  drifted into a rocky  shore.   I climbed out of my boat and stood completely dazed, in the knee deep water.  I had not the slightest idea where the waves of the waters had driven me.  I had no choice except to try and secure my small boat.  I saw nothing to accomplish this, so I grabbed the front of my battered craft,  pulled on it until the full length of its fourteen feet rested safely on the sand.It was my desire to venture further inland but the physical part of me would not let me go.  I wondered why I had been chosen to survive.  Perhaps it was the pattern or plan that was set forth by my Maker.  Yes, I do believe in God. I dropped down on the sand feeling total relief from the water that I thought would be my grave.As exhausted as I was my thoughts whizzed like a merry-go-round.  It was man’s mistake not to withdraw from Iraq.  The year … 2033.  I just passed my twenty=fifth birthday. Even tho my eyes were closed and my head was  hammering things were beginning to clear. I was fuzzy about time.   Something about a political campaign, and a new election.  Yes, there it was, the Iraq war …lasting years.  The TV stations were constantly spitting out words that meant nothing to me.  I was in my teens when it started  I didn’t fully understand it then. I could not make any sense of the discussions.  I heard, but at my age, the reasons did not hit clear.  I was in a state of confusion.  What did the future hold? I just listened.  Strange how words penetrate ones mind and those thoughts are brought forth years later.  Then one can figure out what they meant.Nothing lined this barren shore.  It was as if I had returned.  My first visit to an island was  my father’s gift for graduation. A cruise to a place called St. Thomas. It likened beauty then.  Not now, my body was soaked with salty water. My mouth was dry, my lips were parched. My sun-scorched eyes were stinging from the heat and the glare of the water. All I could do was recall the happening.I went backward in steps, yes, the missiles hit.   Homes, buildings and bridges collapsed in front of me.  Destruction was everywhere. Waters were rising, I ran for my boat. There was nothing to hinder the water from covering the town. Bodies were floating in front of my boat, until they were slushed away when the poles of the dock broke like toothpicks. I was so sickened, Ivomited.  All the land  disappeared. Sky and water and I were alone. My love for boating saved my physical being.  My love for God saved my spirit.It  was dark.  I rolled over. I was uncomfortable.  I ached all over. What do I do?  Where do I go?  How do I exist?  My most fearful question…where was I?Something landed on my face…a wet cloth…and then, my Dad’s voice…”wake up Son, you were in a nightmare.”THE END

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