The Wave

I have a lot of strange dreams, and by strange I mean disturbing. I suppose everybody does. Most people don't seem to want to talk about them, and almost seem bothered that anyone would tell them about theirs, so I just want to clear something up. I'm not telling this dream because I think it means something, or because I want people to comment on it. I just think they're interesting, these little vignettes with no beginning and no end. So, without further ado, The Wave.

I'm at the beach, but I'm not on the sand. There are two long, narrow buildings raised above the beach with wooden walkways in front of them facing each other. I'm standing barefoot on the wet, rounded wooden planks facing the other building and the ocean is to my left. It's overcast, but I don't feel cold. There are many people here, and we're all here for some kind of group outing.

Something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. It's a giant wave coming in from the ocean. I keep expecting it to get smaller as it gets closer, but it doesn't, and I start to realize that the people on the beach are in danger. I try to call out, but as the wave gets closer the roar overpowers my cries. The wave collapses on the beach, smothering everything in its path, and when it finally receeds the beach has been wiped clean. There is no sign of the people who had been there a minute ago.

Running down to the beach, I look frantically for any sign that someone had survived, but there is nothing but smooth sand. One other man had followed me down. I start to ask him if they could have been buried, but he didn't think so. In desperation I start digging anyway, and I hit something almost immediately. It is a wrist, but it feels rubbery and cold. Calling out to the others for help I start to unearth the rest of the body, sure that it must be dead. When I get to the face I realize that the man is alive. His eyes flutter open, but nothing else moves. It is then that I realize that I have been scratching his skin horribly with the sand as I was digging him out. Some of the others pull him the rest of the way out of the sand and start to take him up to one of the walkways.

In the impression left behind by the body I can see part of another body exposed. I start digging again, but then with a sudden wave of panic I realize that I haven't been paying attention to the ocean. Glancing furtively at the horizon, I satisfy myself that I am not about to become the next victim and continue extracting a young woman from the sand. Looking for her head, I become cognizant of the fact that there is no way I will be able to find them all, even assuming I can find them. Under the sand are dozens of people holding their breath, waiting, hoping I will find them, and most of them will not be found in time. I set to digging once again with renewed vigor. More people are helping now, but most are just standing on the walkways, gawking.