From Among the Castaways
I was at sea, and before I was conscious I washed ashore on a grey
island of castaways.
We were ragged and starving, stood hypnotised before images of colours
and shapes and false idols as if at worship to the highest power.
Despaired, I slipped into a dream.
One day I awoke, and realised I had no longer the haze of childhood or
unfounded, confounded rage of adolescence, but that I had, quite accidentally,
become an adult.
With a crash, nothing would ever be the same, or as pleasant and
simple and free again, for everyone.
Paralysed by fear, I retreated to dreams.
In huddles, the castaways meekly resisted the invaders who swarmed the
island like ants, herding soul upon soul into ship upon ship upon ship.
I watched from behind a hard layer of air, unable to move or speak or
help the hearts within my grasp. I turned away.
I awoke, dreams bleached into daylight.
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