Opened my eyes. The backyard raft swayed gently.
Since the global warming knocked on the door like the naughtiest kid on Halloween and directly tricked us with its raised sea levels life became quite surreal. Most of the houses in the neighborhood have their whole first floors submerged. We're a bit uphill, so only a meter of water took residence. Never paid rent.
The majority of the people left. Only shadows live in their deserted houses.
Some of us stayed. We're adapting. Sometimes slower. Sometimes with the hours.
One day I saw a shark's fin moving in the calm water in the backyard. Didn't go there for a month. Or more … Maybe less. I can't tell exactly.
Because I can't sleep. I never sleep. Since the sea came. Especially around midnight. Time seemingly extends in that Dark Hour …
I actually only tried to open my eyes. They were very sore, and it felt like the blinding daylight violently tried to kill them at once.
Damn! I understand for the eyes – I could never get used to the insomnia, so my windows-to-the-soul paid the ultimate price.
What I don't understand is what I woke up from just now. It was not a dream. I dreamed once recently, so I can tell the difference …
Relaxed my body on the poorly crafted vessel.
Just dropped the lids for some seconds. The eyes deserve some rest. After all, they pay for that never-been-able-to-sleep curse.
Just a thought passed by. A single thought for the state of this crazy-over-the-top new world. One thought. And I opened my eyes. They shouldn't have been closed for more than ten to fifteen seconds. But in today's screwed up reality even the sun is strange. From a happy, shiny morning rise a moment ago, it already sets in a glorious bed of red, orange and purple.
Well just a blink, and from bathing light, we go to shadows.
One specific shadow draws my attention. It moves. And its movements are not exactly natural … like those of a tree in the wind or an animal.
I suddenly and inexplicably burst in fear and panic.
Jump from the loosely tied raft in the water and struggle to reach the door of the house. In vain.
It gets me on the porch. Not the shadow, its possessor.
Grabs me. By the ankle. By the thigh. By both hands. Around the neck. Something sucks my forehead. Holly …! How many appendages does it have!?!
Then, while it turns me against it, it smiles. I can see this enormous grin, full of large, bright like the moon, sharper than the deep winter blizzard teeth. A tiny squiggly tentacle protrudes from one of its myriad eyes. It pinches my nose and I hear the mad, jolly voice:
– Boop, sunny boy! It's almost midnight. You give me my magic hour lead and then it's your turn to chase me.
Written for my local amateur writing club and first "published" on October 30, 2018 on the related page on Facebook.