August-- Mike stared out

Mike stared out at the ocean. It was quite late at night, actually, even for a weekend. He would have to visit his great aunt tomorrow but, until then, or until his roommate grumbled to him in the morning (i.e. in a few hours), he had the time to himself.

The ocean was dark and it bled away into the sky under the cool blanket of fog that was rolling inland. It was difficult to see, but surrounded by the regular march of the waves as they rolled against the sand, surrounded by the indefinite space of swirling water droplets, Mike felt...something...vast....

If God exists, thought Mike, if he did...he must have proved his existence through nature. Amazing...this feeling of there being nothing else, of there will never be anything else...and something like happiness almost there....


Am I happy? wondered Zach, staring up at the ceiling. He had woken up and his brain had decided to put sleep on hold. Am I? And why am I wondering about it at the unholy hours right before dawn? I have plenty to be thankful for, I know, and I know how to appreciate it. But this...not quite faith...almost hope...what, for the sake of my own sanity I'll call intuition...why do I feel like there is something out there still...always..., just beyond my reach?

The leaves rustled outside, a lonely sound. All was quiet except for the quiet snore from his roommate and the occasional small nighttime sounds. It was normal...TOO normal, thought Zach. It was almost surreal...


Yawning, Nick closed his laptop. It was a few hours after when he usually went to bed. Today he'd stayed up longer waiting for...what?

His roommate already asleep, Nick got up from his seat as quietly as he could and went to stand by the window. After a moment of hesitation, he lifted the curtain and stared up at the sky.

Trees and stars. The little things that can make a person feel utterly at home or unbearably far away and alone.

It's the little things, after all, contemplated Nick. It's the little things that mean the most to us...and it's also the little things that can ruin the best human experience. For instance, the way my family signs the emails...and just when I'm starting to feel content, I'd remember something...the way my mother smiles at me when I come home from school each day and then.... Why?


Why? reasoned Mike. Why this? Why everything? How come? Is God real? Are we alone in the universe? Why does my roommate leave his stupid mug all over the freakin' place? He made a noise of muffled exasperation. Questions...always questions...never any good answers.


No one, mused Zach, can have all the answers in the world. The human mind can't hold it. Yet we love truth, or at least the idea of truth. We think we want so many things but how many of them would we really need? And despite of our differences, how similar we are!


We're all so much alike. Nick sighed. Yet, that doesn't seem to make friendship any more common and people don't seem to get along any better. It's weird how people behave. I've left a country and came to another, but I guess everyone...


Everyone, figured Mike, must be a part of something greater. It just would make so much sense if they do. It all adds up...


...people are like jig-saw pieces, reasoned Zach. No matter how much you argue about the shapes...we're still all made out of cardboard...


...so many people, reflected Nick, similar.... I know I am just like a lot of them in some ways...in a lot of ways...actually...


Mike glanced at his watch, straining to make out the time in the darkness, and sighed. "Probably should go back now," he muttered.


Zach rolled over on his side, checked the time again, and decided that he really must do something about these wakeful moments in the middle of the nigh-er-early morning.


Nick crawled into bed, glancing at his watch as he took it off. The time could be described as either very late or very early. Sleep? Definitely.



Beyond the vague feelings of the human subconscious, the great clockworks of the fourth dimension hummed quietly to itself as it warped and folded in ways that would give an astrophysicist a heart attack. In levels even higher up, at dimensions that neither humans nor amoebas know anything about, beings whose existence was only wondered about placed the pieces, dealt the cards, and begin to play.

The players moved, the roles were settled, the stage revolved around the predetermined rules.

Another round of the Game had begun.

[end of August]

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It's okay Lucy, we can still take over the blog together! (Which we're probably doing already but oh well). ;-)