Fractal Sea

Day -1

Lambs, be it one of The Lord's or The Devil's

They flock under one disheveled man

The lambs followed the man until the ends of the lands

One by one the lambs fell, in the end but two remain

And there which they see the City of Myrrh

A city of blue sky, blue rivers, and blue air

The lambs struggled to bleat, their cries unheard

And the disheveled man simply walked onward

"Mira, you should rest. Your face is as pale as paper."

So you say, but my body is telling me to get up. You know better than anyone that I never let any sort of sickness get in the way of my day. It is due time you give up telling me to rest up.

"I do this because I care about you, okay? What if the baby is disturbed?"

So you care about me or the baby more? Be decisive.

"Right, sorry. I just, seeing you fell unconscious all of a sudden gave me a panic attack. I was just worried, that's all."

Don't mention it. I always know you're a worrywart, and that's partly one of the things I find so fascinating about you. That kindness is what sets you apart from others that have laid their eyes on me before.

"Stop that, you're embarrassing me. Well, since you refuse to be bound by the blankets, how about we take a walk outside together? It's been a while since we've done that."

Good idea. Then help me up, I'm struggling to even get on my footing.

We took a walk on the shores together, neither with sandals on because we both lost them the other day. But no matter, there's nothing on this beach that can threaten our feet anyway. But still, it's always too oddly empty here in this beach. There's just me, him, and soon our child, living in the small house we've built together. It's been both an exciting and painful seven months, but with his help, I managed to get through it.

As the waves came crashing down the rocky shoreline with a deafening roar, I kept wondering what we'll name the baby. We don't even know if it'll be a boy or a girl, so we have to plan for both outcomes. He said he'll name the boy after his name, just with "Junior" at the end of it. How very inspiring. But I'm not complaining; that sincerity and sometimes empty-mindedness is what made me fall for him in the first place.

My husband, he's nothing but a regular man. He works day-to-day jobs in the village, barely making ends meet. And yet his smile throughout all that hardship, it hit me far harder than any rich noble men with fancy cars and flowers have. He fell down, he hurt himself, and he never complained. He kept this dumb, wide smile on his face, and kept getting back up. In a way, that's inspiring for some people. It doesn't inspire me in the slightest though, but it does make him more charming for me. We've been married for three years and only now we're having the headache of looking forward to our first child. I don't know why he waited for so long to finally make the call. Maybe he's just indecisive as usual.

And this beach, I've known this beach for so long yet have never been here before personally until I married him. An empty beach with slightly bluish sand, and waves that crashes down the rocky shores like a raging lion. It's an oddly soothing place to be once you get used to the smell of brine. He had lived here for so long, and then he brought me here to live with him. I must say, I'm getting used to it. I still cough from time to time, and even got stray sand stuck to my eyes. But I suppose that's what beach life gives you, and it's now up to us to make good use of it; both for us, and for our baby.

"By the way," he interjected as I was just about to blabber on. "I've never asked because I don't think you wanted to tell me. But what was your homeland like? And is it... painful to be separated from your birthplace?"

As considerate as ever.

I told him that it's not much issue on my end, it's just something I rarely bring up because it doesn't feel like a very interesting topic.

I was born here, Father. Mother passed away when I was three after she became very ill. That was it, wasn't it? It's true that my birth was mother's undoing, right? I still remember her emerald green eyes, looking at me one last time. She caresses my cheek, and gave me a kiss on the forehead as she called my name.

"Mika," is what she called me.

The sea belongs to me and you know it, my love.

But now, it's yours to control. My hold to this world is waning day by day.

And you'll be the one to make everything dance on your fingertips.

You, and only you, my dear love.