His lungs screamed for air as his head burst above the surface of the water. His long hair and beard stuck to his skin as he eyed the shore. A few quick strokes and he could feel his feet on the sand approaching the beach. The shore seemed like it was miles away. He half swam and half ran until the water was only waist deep. Standing up now, the tattered remnants of a business suit clung to him. He raced as quickly as he could out of the water. Running like the fear of god himself pursued him. His arms flailing in the air and his legs lifting out of the water to move him more quickly forward.

At long last he is completely out of the water, free from that cloying, crushing environs that almost drove him mad. He collapses to beach and feels the sand between his fingers. He breaths again, that cool, wonderful air. It fills his lungs and he overcomes the urge to cough out the remaining water.

He raises his head, and in the graveled voice of a man just moments ago near to drowning, croaked, “It’s….”