The End

of the Circle

in dream

Deep blue ocean waters of magnificent intensity would normally crash against rock with fierce sounds and the sight of liquid coating solid in a violent dance of nature. Of course, this is no ordinary ocean, nor ordinary rock. This whole scene had been fabricated by the marvelous wonder of the 22nd century, though the lone man at the edge of the cliff wall stared out with no care for the fact of reality. He wished to escape his inner fears with this façade, this dream of a beautiful, yet now-impossible reality.

Since the de-liquidizing of the Earth, a scene like this cost either billions of dollars legally or a measly ten illegally. The man cared not, however, as mentioned before. The trap was carefully laid and he stepped into it with the confidence of a man eating a prime steak for three American dollars in an expensive restaurant.

The man listened intently to the ocean’s struggle to become the master of the rock, pushing at it, corroding it, attempting for complete control of the Earth. He breathed in the sweet, yet coarse, ocean fragrances, reminiscing on a time of peace, many years ago. Raising his hand, he grabbed hold of an invisible object and thrust upward, deactivating the machine.

“Damn it,” he whispered. He breathed quickly as he regained his breath from the view which would render an average person unconscious with lust of nature. “Help me.”

Old friend AND…new acquaintances

He exited the shower room fully clothes, the steam stuck to his flowing brown hair, his body covered in dew. Three men stood outside the semi-clear glass, apparently waiting for him.

The room was pure white, no spots of color. The floor was ceramic black tile, reflecting with the white to create an unnatural vibe of death and joy to the room.

His eyes darted around, searching for a suitable escape route from these bastards, these abominations of man. They strode forward and grabbed his arms. He thought for a second before rendering himself still, letting the men drag him where they see fit.

“Jason Walls, you are under arrest for AWOL offense. You have a right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you.” The man leading the group whispered.

“I wanted another round of ocean,” Jason replied, grinning quickly before returning to a morose expression absent of emotion.

“Maybe in twenty-five years,” the leader said.

“Maybe now,” Jason stated as he tripped the two men holding him. A loud thud could be heard as their faces contacted with the floor, effectively knocking them out. The leader spun around and drew his weapon. “I really want that other round.