Waves were crashing incessantly onto the cobbled beach. The sound of shifting stone grinding and gnawing between the foaming of water. But here he found tranquility. The automated chatter of his mind and thoughts, almost seamlessly, subsided into the stream of the ocean's current. The lonesome shoreline had become a comfort to the stranger.
He wandered down the trodden path, kept by the soles of similar souls who sought to escape some form of unease jerking at their minds. Yet, despite the various signs of other wanderers, the shoreline was deserted, and not once had anyone intruded on the serenity of this place since he had found it some months ago.
He came here regularly, seeking refuge from pestering masses and irksome obligations. The sea spray touched lightly on his face as he settled on a big boulder upturned by the hand of some giant. “God, can you hear me?” the question hung unanswered, then crushed by the raging of wave and foam.
Despair touched his heart with a tiny prick. “He's not there”, rang a small voice from the chambers of his mind, almost indistinct. He summoned his will with increasing intent, “God, I don't know if you're listening, but if you are, please, just, something!”. Embarrassment flooded his face, as if some rational stranger had heard his absurd cry. “What are you doing here?” he asked himself with a sigh, the question thrown aimlessly into the cold rush of sea air.
The big boulder bared witness to the passing of age. It was scratched, flaked and worn by the weather, yet it remained. It’s cold embrace locked him into a seated position. He worked his fingers in between the cracks and felt the scarring of time. He then moved his hand towards his own face and traced similar lines. The felt just as rigid and cold.
“Hey! What are you doing up there?”
A cold shock violently wrenched him out of the trance. The source of his fright remain obscured below the edges of the monolithic mass.