There’s a wall on the beach.  It doesn’t connect to anything.  No intersecting walls, floor, or ceiling.  Seems normal enough.  Just a bit of wall about ten feet long and fuzzy on both ends.  There’s art hung there.  Still life of fruit.  Three of them in ornate, bronze frames.  A pear, an orange, and a neon green apple.  Completely unremarkable.

Listening closely, the sound of the waves.  Much closer to my heels than expected.  In fact, right up there, tickling the rubber sole of my sandal.  And loud as shit.

Then it’s all underwater in every direction.  No more wall or beach.  Just blue, lit up by something other than the sun.  I’m completely flipped out, panicking, dying, until it’s just the beach again, and the wall.  This time it isn’t fruit, it’s cartoon crabs.  I laugh because they look so damned stupid.

Now it becomes absolutely imperative that I get behind the wall.  Impossible, since the fuzzy edge stays just exactly out of my reach as I walk along the wall and reach for the edge.  And the paintings keep repeating.  I wonder if there’s away back to the fruit, that seemed like a more safe world.  Just keep walking, knuckles against brushing the edges of the frames.

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