A Freed Soul
You’re perched up on a hammock tied between two large palm trees, whose dense leaves casted a shadow above your figure, concealing you from the scorching sun above as you laid there hovering over the hot, sizzling sand. You could vividly hear each roar belonging to each wave as they crashed against the shore directed to your left. Your ears perked up at the sound of screeching seagulls in the distance, fighting over a fish that they’ve hunted.
It was a blistering summer morning, and you had fortuitously fallen asleep on the swaying hammock the former night, the cool night breeze rocking you left to right repeatedly, lulling you to sleep, until you inevitably dozed off. You didn’t intend on spending the night outdoors, with your book (which you were reading last night) wedged uncomfortably between your seat and your right hip, and the put out lantern hung up on one of the palm trees’ jutted wooden piece of its bark, resting above your head by a few meters, which was your source of light the night before.
You were petrified of the ocean during the dark hours of the night, but you barely even acknowledged the frightful nature of the black abyss beyond the horizon mirroring its darkness onto the never-ending water, not to mention the consistent sound of waves slamming themselves onto the sand, then retreating back to the ocean. You could hardly notice any of it, because you were busy being completely and utterly captivated by that really good book you had your nose stuck into all night before drifting off to sleep.
As you woke with a start and unintentionally snorted as you jolted awake, your puzzled eyes took a few generous seconds to commence comprehending your surroundings.
Where on earth were you?
You squinted at the sudden brightness of the world around you, and you hazily wiped the corner of your lips of any drool (you grimaced in disgust at it), and you subconsciously wiped it against the hammock’s fabric. You yawned noisily and stretched your limbs, before swinging your legs over the hammock and bringing them down to the ground as you sat upright, your feet touching the soft sand beneath you, and you winced slightly at how hot it was.
As your eyes finally adjusted and you casted your vision onto the clear, blue water in front of you, it finally dawned on you that you’d slept here all night long, and your eyes widened in sheer shock. Cursing quietly under your breath, you fervently stood up and angrily walked your way over to the water, mentally scolding yourself for being so irresponsible.
Sleeping in public was not something you’d ever let yourself do. It was just completely foolish and dangerous.
You grumbled, but when your feet touched the cool water, your sour mood instantly lifted and was replaced by a calm serenity instead. The creases on your forehead as a result of your frown were smoothened away gently, while your lips twitched upward to craft themselves into a small smile. You finally remembered why you were even here to begin with.
You inhaled deeply, the sea-salt scent welcomingly wafting into your nostrils, before you slowly exhaled through your mouth, and slightly parted your lips. You’d escaped to the beach yesterday because you were growing inexplicably drained from your routine-driven city life.
You often found yourself so undeniably absorbed into the whirlpool of the How to Live in The City guide, in which you’d constantly oversleep through your alarm, and then rush to get dressed and quickly down your cup of coffee, only to accidentally scorch the roof of your mouth with the boiling-hot drink. You’d then quickly shove an energy bar between your teeth and munch it down aggressively while slipping your feet into your shoes and hopping around to tie your shoelaces. Slithering your arms into your coat, and latching your fingers onto your phone and apartment keys, you leave your home in a flurry and rush downstairs to catch a cab.
Of course, it’d cost you a fight with another angry and late person to get ahold of that cab, plus a hasty and unclear explanation of where the driver should drop you off, followed by a “Where the hell is that?” from the driver because you suck at giving directions. However, by the time you actually make it to work, all your morning chaos slips away from your busy mind, and you are now focused on what you need to do at work today.
You are delivering a pitch to your boss, only to have it backfire and you have to start over with a new idea, and not to mention accidentally spilling your lunch over your shirt because stupid Sally just had to unintentionally ram her shoulder against yours to move through because she couldn’t wait like a decent human being for another lift to stop by their floor and just had to wedge herself in the space left in the elevator or else she’d die.
Okay, so you had an awful day, right? But get this: you finally make it back to the comfort of your own home, and you’re ready to hop into the shower and cleanse off all that negativity from your body and soul — but then the last straw was broken, and ice-cold water bullets slapped you in the face when you turned the shower on, causing you shriek and yelp, almost slip, and hurriedly stopped the water from running.
You stood there.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
You whispered to yourself repeated, but it was no use. The tears of frustration had already formed in the corners of your eyes, your scratchy throat constricted, and your shoulders slumped forward in defeat.
You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to let the chaos of the world plummet down on you and drag you down with it to the depths of hell, and instead, with a shaky breath, you walked out of the shower and turned the heater on.
As you wrapped your bath robe around you and left the water to get the warm temperature you wanted, you walked over to your living room, where your laptop was, and you immediately typed up an email to your boss, requesting a few days off and used the excuse of “If you want me to come up with a good idea, then I need to think in a space that can inspire something new.” You then proceeded to look for an online booking at a resort with a stunning beach view, and you quickly proceeded to make the payment.
You sat there staring at the screen which had informed you that your payment was successful, and a few seconds later, you heaved yourself up and lazily walked back to your bathroom to have that desperately-needed shower.
So as you stood there at the beach and took in the breathtaking experience of standing in a place where it was just you and a few occasional people, instead of hundreds of people walking past on a cramped sidewalk, you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning from ear to ear.
You overslept, and you didn’t feel guilty.
You didn’t have to rush to get ready for work.
You didn’t have to fight someone else for a cab.
You didn’t have to get a disappointed look from your boss.
In this moment, you are completely and utterly free, and you were going to relish in that feeling for as long as it lasted.
