Ficly

Lucidity

I was thrown high and lucid by the bottle of painkillers in my hand; it blurred the fine line of distinction that lay between me and reality. Or perhaps that line had been blurred long ago. Now, it had become completely opaque.

The rough wind battered my side, trying to hurl me onto the jagged rocks below. I had traversed this path countless times, and through all the vagaries of the weather. Why then, did I feel so unsteady now? Something was amiss, had the island changed? Or had I?

As I continued my journey, my neck began to ache from staring up at the beacon. It constantly blinked back at me with a red orb of light that, through the darkness, seems to be watching my every move. I cursed it. I feel as if it was trying to penetrate me, trying to force its way into the barriers I had set around myself.

The chance of me ever leaving this island is infinitesimal at best. The boat which I had used to arrive now lay at the bottom of the ocean, becoming a home for all the creatures that live there.

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