Ray looked out at the grey sea lapping endlessly against the sand. The cool morning air kissed his chest and filled his nose with the scent of salt. The beach was deserted from what he could see. It was far too chilly a morning for anybody save the odd diehard, too driven to maintain a perfect figure to let the sedate grey stop him.
Ray loved this weather. It was nature when she was naked and alone. Nobody was taking in the view, no tourist snapping away with a camera or a couple creating a cinematic memory. There was no mask or pretense to the world on days like this. The world for just a moment stepped out of its many given forms and shapes to simply be for a moment. Ray was envious.
The beach was so empty and inviting that Ray could practically feel the damp morning sand bending around his feet. What he’d give to walk out of the door, across the deck and down into the water. He’d always kicked the idea around of buying a boat and drifting off into the sea. He’d head down south and find a place where he could finally stop switching masks. He’d be free to stretch out and give himself a chance to be. Even now, all he wanted to do was to wade into the foaming grey water until it lapped over his head.
He smiled as his wants gnawed away inside of him.
He stole a glance at his watch. 8:03 AM. He still had a whole morning before his work began. He thought of making himself some coffee until he remembered there was nothing in the kitchen. Not a solitary thing save for his flask, sitting on the counter where he’d left it the night before. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten any meal in a kitchen. It felt like ages since he was in one spot long enough to have any sort of domestic comfort. Inside the bedroom, vacant and unfilled as it was when he first stepped in it last night was a single slim metal suitcase. That was his whole life, sitting inside that sleek and cold case.
Everything about the world on the other side of this glass screen-door felt so sterile and cold. From the empty kitchen to his pressed suit jacket and shirt, still hanging where he’d left them the night before. Nothing felt alive in this chic and barren place. Ray’s stomach growled, angry at being left with nothing but a splash of whiskey for almost a day and a half. He stared at the horizon, picturing how far he’d have to swim to cross the horizon.
Ray stepped back into the dark living room. On the coffee table was his tool of trade, a reminder of work awaiting him this afternoon. He picked it up and checked the safety before tucking into the back of his khakis. When he was dressed and he stepped out into the grey morning, he saw the sun slowly starting to peek through the clouds. Ray felt a pang of sorrow as he slid his sunglasses on.
Yeah, me too.