The Ocean and The Breeze

A view of death brought on by a man stranded on an island.

Midnight had come again. He hadn't been sleeping very well lately. The sailboat still lay mangled on the surface of the beach. The breeze from the ocean caressed him as the moonlight shown down through the leaves of the tree he was laying on.  It was so beautiful, as if the guilt was overshadowed by the awe that he felt. The awe was that of the absurdity that surrounded him. "Goodbye." he remarked as if he was expecting and answer. An answer from the moon, the breeze or the ocean. Although, he wasn't expecting an answer. He just wanted to speak again. 

"Hello." his head swung up, not quickly but urgently.

"Hello?"

"I'm here."

"Who's here?"

"It doesn't matter." 

"I guess not." He looked around again. The waves kept crashing and the hum of the breeze kept comforting him. 

"Then why are you here?" 

"You know why."

"I guess I do." He looked at the ground and played with the sand. He carefully watched as each grain returned to the earth.

"Why now?"

"Nobody is coming. It's been too long. This time eventually comes for everyone."

"I know, but why did it have to be me?"
"It didn't, it just turned out to be you."

"Then what about her? What about my kids?"

"What about them?"
"Will they be okay?"

"Who can say." 

"I wanted to see them again." He stood up and looked out into the vast nothingness. There was really nobody. He was alone again. Alone like he was the day he left.

"But I have my regrets."

"But that is in the past. The past cannot change and there is no fixing it now."

"I guess you're right. But if it doesn't matter, the why are you here? Why are you talking to me?" 

There was a pause. The breeze had grown stronger and the leaves rustled to the rhythm of the mans voice.

"There is always a point where I come along. Some may call me god, some call me a hallucination. Others call me a moment of clarity. The reason I'm here is because you're here."

The man thought for a while. The breeze came back to a slow tumble as the warmth of the air was rhythmically swept away from him. It was almost therapeutic. The moonlight keep shining down on him, fluctuating with the movement of the clouds above. 

"What will happen to this place?"
"Nothing. It will continue on."

"The sun will shine tomorrow?"

"And the next day and the next day."

"Then what does it matter if I'm gone?"
"It doesn't"

"Then how come I can't stay?"

"Because you can't"

He looked around once more. He took in a deep breath of fresh air and took in his surroundings once again. The pale moonlight reflected off the leaves, the water and every small grain of sand. He enjoyed it. He took in every ray, every thump and every whisper around him. 

"It's a beautiful night."

"It is."

"I hope somebody will get to see this again."

"Me too"

With that, he walked towards the water. He slowly submerged his feet, them his torso, and after getting a final touch from the warm air above him, he submerged his body into the water.

The next day was bright and hot. The wreckage was still jaggedly scattered around the beach, the rocks still lay still, the waves continued to crash, the leaves continued to dance, and the breeze continued to blow, yet the beach was empty.