Windswept

With a jolt, Thomas became aware of his body once more. His legs felt bruised, tender and heavy. He flinched as he flexed his bare toes. He could feel heat hitting his bare skin, drying the shorts and t-shirt that clung to him, sodden.  It took two seconds more for him to realise that the ground on which he lay was uneven. It was warm. When he moved, so did it. It was hard and uncomfortable. Unnerved, Thomas took a big breath. He could smell a delicious combination of fresh air, fish, salt water, plants and trees. He inwardly frowned, confused as to why his senses were identifying such unusual objects. His eyes flickered open, reluctantly under the beam of what he assumed was the sun bright and high in the sky. He paused. He had noticed a severe lack of clouds in the stretch of blue above him.

Thomas was still very weary and had a distinct lack of co-ordination on his side. He spent several minutes pondering his situation, picking his memory to try and determine how he came to awaken here. He freezes and his eyes widen as he remembers the storm. The wind had been so strong, so loud, screaming through the streets of his home town and howling into every corner. He recalled himself struggling to arrive at his own front door, fighting to progress one step and failing as the wind pushed him back two more. He had grown too weak, his energy depleted, his strength and willpower demolished, and the giant gripping hands of the wind had begun to toss him around like rag doll. He winced as he was reminded of the slap of the water against his skin as his helpless body was thrown into the dingy river. And now here he was. Alone, confused, and sore.

Slowly, he wedged his elbows underneath his shoulders so that he was halfway to sitting. He glanced around, nervously anticipating the worst.
‘Eww!’ he exclaimed, scrambling backwards.
 ‘Ohh…’ he breathed out.
A pile of murky green, slimy seaweed had attached itself to his foot. He clambered to his feet, awkwardly in his pain. Sand fell to the floor from his clothing in a cloud. As he straightened up and looked ahead, the soft wash of the waves against the shore made Thomas’ circumstances much calmer. The water was a very deep blue and contrasted with the pale sky at the horizon. He detected movement to his left and shot a look in the direction. A crab, quite large, with swirling colours of red and pink all over its hard shell, ran from under a rock and across to the water’s edge before sinking in the soft sand and disappearing from sight. Thomas relaxed.

He turned around and was relieved to see bright green grass and tall palm trees with fallen coconuts gathered around the foot. He treaded carefully, unsure on his feet for they were still inflamed. He grew more confident, stepping more quickly, breaking into a jog in his effort to reach the coconuts. He had suddenly realised he was extremely hungry. It also occurred to him that he had no idea how long he had been here, but his mind was focused on the cold smooth milk. He dropped to his knees, became vaguely aware of a substantial bruise, ignored it and with force brought down a coconut onto the sharp edge of a rock. The liquid splashed as a hole emerged in the furry object. He took a long drink, wiped his milky moustache from his lip, and flopped onto his back in the cool grass.

A short time later, Thomas heard an unusual sound. A sort of repeated thud getting closer and closer – until it stopped. Thomas sat up with a start and promptly hit his head on a…
‘What was that?’ He thought.
Then he heard a whinny above his head.
‘What? A horse?!’
He looked up and a soft fuzzy muzzle nudged his cheek. Thomas stood up slowly, backed away and admired the beast in front of him. He was a brilliant white, with a subtle sweep of dark grey speckles along his back. He stood looking at Thomas with mischievous questioning eyes and a tilted head. Thomas gawped in awe. The horse clip-clopped towards him, and nudged him.
 ‘Hey!’ said Thomas aloud.
The horse gave another soft whinny and bowed his head at Thomas. Thomas bowed back. He moved towards the creature and stood on a rock just next to him. The horse moved sideways, closer to Thomas, and allowed the boy to climb onto his back. As soon as Thomas had a grip on the mane, they were off.

The wind generated from the speed the horse was running was a very welcome breath of cool air all over Thomas’ body, whistling in his ears and through his scruffy sweep of mousy hair. Sand flew in storms as the hooves expertly chose their path. From any passing boat they must have looked a blur of colour. Splashed water landed on Thomas’ skin, refreshing it. Before he knew it, they were back where they’d started.
‘Wow’ he thought.
‘Small island’.

The horse came to a halt and allowed Thomas to slide off of his back. Thomas found another coconut, broke it in half against a rock edge, and held it out as a bowl for the horse to take a drink. The horse appeared very grateful.

Thomas sat himself on a rock as the horse began to graze nearby. He had come to a realisation after his ride around the island. It appeared he was the only human inhabitant, and he could look at that one of two ways. First, he could panic. Second, he could own his own island. He chose the latter and set about hunting for wood. He had no clue as to how cold the night would be, and figured a fire would be most helpful to him. Tomorrow, he would begin to build himself a house.