Chapter One, Part One: Requiem for an OceanMature

Candy Hearts in Atlantis.

In the foreground beachy tide pool of a Dream, a blue-eyed man called Jack crouches on a broken mirror. 

After he landed on it. 

He doesn’t have any shoes on; his feet, clean and naked, rest unbloodied on the mirror’s remains. 

Surf scatters across the sand behind him in the distance, the water remembering the mirror as it once was, like a sapphire dust sky blowing through grains of brassy wheat. 

His eyes scatter his senses over the smooth fractures as he turns the shard he’s currently staring at over and over. 

 The piece of glass shimmers in his agile hands like fragments of frozen sea. 

The gold frame is tarnished, but the brightness of older days shows through in spots, here and there, in curling waves of… but soon, the fragment in his hands catches a hovering darkness leaning toward his little golden boat of frame and frame-up. 

It has a hawk nose, long and white, below eyeholes. It has a long robe, too, full of black lines and shades of greys.  The robe conceals, even if only partially, the drab pale blues of a dotted hospital gown. The feet are obscured; perhaps there aren’t any.  Long brown hair cascades down the back, a spicy ribbon of silk. 

From a pocketed wrist, a white-gloved hand beckons somberly, shoving a finger westward, toward a setting sun that wasn’t there a minute ago.  The other hand clicks open a ticking timepiece that gleams like a silver crystal in the snowy palm.

The End

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