The new generation of modernity.
A wave retreated to then retaliate against the shore on which it has shaped for a thousand years. Like a song, it cascaded, beating upon the shingles and creating a life so far beyond what Naoki knew and all that he thought an impossible task. The trickles across his toes, the tingles up his spine, the sensation of hair growing by the foot; every impression left by the enchantment that continues to remain Naoki’s eldest friend sends him into another realm of bliss. However much the surrounding eyes blindly burnt Naoki’s back, a sweet kind of desertion haunted all that entered his mind.
Noise too. The gulls overhead poured praise through powerful lungs, once or twice dipping below to inspect false offerings of chips, and perched atop a rock too distant from the shore, Naoki smiled at its mocking behaviour of his fellow birds who without hesitation volunteered their bodies for frying.
For, sat amid an area of tans and bleached mops of goddesses accompanied by an equally prim god, Naoki’s paler complexion topped by a neat blackened beauty of his own declared an open aversion to the subjective norms of his counterparts’ reality. The illusion of all that is and is not amused Naoki, for what were they missing? Could it be depth or whatever else is rare these days? A yearning or joy for quiet. Yes, a specific type of quiet he radiated, as loneliness: a term without any meaning, and depressed: a word never to be used or weakened through its use for Naoki could instead be challenged by the introduction of far greater gifts from the vocabulary.
And so it would be that Naoki stared toward the sea, wishing the water to wash over his toes one more time before the light from afar could touch the horizon’s edge to then engulf the world in a shroud of darkness.
. . .Thank you. . .
Cover photo from: Pixabay showing a shingle beach (https://pixabay.com/en/stones-shingle-beach-foam-sand-973178/)