Blanks

He was beginning to sense a feeling of distaste, for his eye's focus was so hard, intensified like battle was between his mind and the waters in front of him, as though his eyes was about to pierce against the surface of the water like a bullet against the windshield of a car. Why now?, he thought.

The water was a hue of blue and green from about a hundred feet from him and the shore, and dark blue from far across the horizon as far as his eyes can see. It bothered him now, his knees slightly jerked as if it felt apprehension by itself. It must be the colors and the light, he said to himself. But when he began to move his eyeballs a little bit farther about a few feet from the certain spot where he was staring, he felt a sudden shudder, like a quiver inside his head, slowly crawling across the left side of his skull, as if it was taunting him. And as expected he felt irritated. No not now, he said out loud as he touched his head near his eyebrow with the side of his clenched fist, brushing it harshly.

He never did understand this feeling with the waters, or with anything that has something to do with it. The fact that the color of the sea changes with distance seem to bother him seriously, his mind cannot think of anything else but that, his eyes as if disabled, was stuck staring at the water with a kind of unwanted authority over the sea, yet his eyeballs is unable to move. As if he had never seen water before, the concept of which was too unfamiliar and new to him, that somehow, his mind can't grasp the idea of any part of it, the sense of how really is a liquid state.

And just as he thought his mind was going to snap, it was gone. And as usual, his mind lost track of what has just happened, he was so used to this by now that it was easy for him to lose the thought. But each time, he's unable to divert his attention to something else, because it always ends up in silence. And then there was the silence in his head , no thoughts, not even the uneasiness he felt a moment ago was gone. Taking a deep breath, he put aside his knapsack and grabbed a stone and started to pile it up one by one, just beside his feet, as if he was trying to build a tower of rocks or something absurd. But he had done it without effort, unconsciously picking them up and placing it on top of the other. His hands as though on its own, own will and he is not in command. His mind is somewhere else and somehow he knew, some place inside his head, at the back of his mind perhaps, he's aware something terrible is going to happen.