MOSAIC

Chapter 9: Shark

The gritty inner lining of my clothing chaffed against my moist skin, rubbing it raw and bloody with every movement. There were so many sores and scrapes on my body I was surprised I had not yet bled to death, or succumbed to some kind of disease. The skin, especially around my groin and armpits had been scraped ragged, the wounds continuously drenched and lathered with cold water. My feet throbbed and stung with every stumbling step, blistered and cold in my waterlogged shoes. They were beginning to get soft and mushy on account of being submerged in water and muddy sludge for the majority of each day and night. I've been sloshing around in the muck for so long, I can scarcely remember the last time I was dry. Or the last time anything was dry for that matter. Soaking wet. Just constantly soaking wet.

The entire roadway had transformed into one enormous shallow bog. Where did all this mud and sand even come from? There were parts of my street in which I was forced to slog around in sandy mud so deep it sucked my foot in up to the ankle. It was just so much incessant rainwater. Everywhere I looked was just wetness, glistening like slime on the crumbling walls of homes, and dripping off my nose, chin, and fingertips like a dribbling faucet.

The rainfall was not actually heavy, it rarely ever was. But it was just always there. Even on days where it would seemingly cease for a while, a damp, clammy mist hung in the air, coating everything with a gloomy layer of cold moisture. And that had been my existence for the last few weeks. Or perhaps months. Or maybe it's only been a few days. Sometimes I'm unable to tell for some reason. My mind itself is waterlogged and drowned. I've been wandering up and down my street for so long I can't be certain how long it's been. I can't remember anything after coming home that night in the rain with my bike. ​

My shoes made sloppy splashing sounds as I slogged along the crumbling remains of a home, scanning its ruins to see if perhaps it was mine. No. Or maybe it was. It was hard to tell. But I don't think it was. I glanced ahead into the mistiness and strained my eyes to see if I could see the end of the street yet. I don't why, but I haven't been able to walk down to the end for some reason. It just keeps going.

As always, the rain drizzled softly against my already wet skin, and further engorged my heavy, sopping garments with moisture. My body shivered lightly as the dampness penetrated into my core, chilling my aching bones. I stopped momentarily, surveying the clouds in the distance. The sky was always just one great big grey mass which drowned out all traces of the sun's much needed rays of warmth. There was something peculiar developing in the far distance. Something dark and heavy looking. But it never seemed to fully progress into whatever it was. It just writhed and churned like some faraway colossal, sky-bound organism.

Closer up ahead, I could see the silhouette of a structure forming in the mist, its image wafting in and out of focus as the light spray of rain obscured its features. I waded forward, my feet squishing and sloshing in deep puddles of cold, sandy water, the sounds of my wet, sloshy footfalls getting lost in the damp mist.

As I approached the structure I could see that it was a house. An intact house. It was not my house but it was a familiar house, although I could not pinpoint from where its familiarity stemmed.

As I splashed my way closer through the quiet veil of fog, an ominous feeling began to spread outwards from my chest and coil its way through my extremities. The door was wide open, the mist itself leaking into the house, flooding in through the house's gaping mouth like a living liquid mass. The air was moving a lot faster over here. Further back everything was hanging dead and lifeless, but here there was some kind of a current. Powerful gusts were sweeping against my wet clothing, an awful freezing sensation gripping me every time the wind raked against me. The rush of cold air must have been coming from some vast wide-open region, although I couldn't imagine from where.