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Who knows the boy sitting scared of the world that happens to quickly? As he sits there wondering when he’ll be safe to move. Looking with anticipation outward towards the little that he is able to see and focus on. There are things and people that, despite everything else, don’t seem to be moving, that aren’t a blur of color; rather they are waiting for something. He’s starting to get restless the more he sees these people around him. None of them notice him or if they do don’t acknowledge his presence. Simply stated, they are all focused on something else that he isn’t able to see through the sea of motion he’s trapped by.

Screaming he tries to reach one of them. nothing.. The sight of these people is becoming painful as he sits there (he hasn’t actually been sitting for some time but he’s trapped by the motion around him). He starts to question everything, the bustle and rustle of the motion has him doubting the very sound of his voice. When he moves his lips and yells does it utter a sound? The people he can see can’t hear him. Can he even hear him self? Thinking about this starts to frighten him, if there are those he can see but can’t hear, there must be those he can’t see. What if you could feel before you could hear someone? How could he get to someone if he couldn’t be heard and can’t reach them? The shiver hit his back as he realizes someone is standing behind him, yelling and he couldn’t here.

Eyes clenched shut pushing all the moisture out of his eyes, to their corners, causing two tears to wait silently. Slowly his hands touch to his hips and then run across his stomach as he prepares to look. He’s feeling sick as he turns.

This man is lost. This man isn’t trying to find him and hasn’t even noticed that he was there. One look at this man and he knew that this man was from the sea of movement. All the other people he could see were very put together with clean clothes and appeared to be waiting for something. This man was a mess. He could reach this man, and stretched out his hand to this man. Startled the man jumped before completely turning to face him. He was shocked to see what he saw, the man was hopelessly lost in something with dried lines running from his eyes that were pulled back to the corners of his face. The man was exhausted.

Moments before he realized what he was doing, the man saw his hand, he froze stiff. He wasn’t looking for someone who was broken as the man was. The man wasn’t who he screamed for. As thoughts and questions inundated his mind his hand became filled with the hand of the man. This man simply stood their waiting as if expecting something from him. He was so confused, this all occurred to quickly. A part of him wanted to push this man back into the sea of motion, forgetting that all of this ever happened, and part of him wanted to help pull the man together. As he was about to pull his hand away from this man and push him back he noticed the other people around him were all watching. His heart sank.

He pulled the man to his side and embraced the man. This was the first time that he could remember hearing another voice above all the noise of the sea that encapsulated them. The man said thank you.

Words were seldom exchanged between them, but the man was no longer looking as he had. As he looked at the man again he realized that the man was looking more and more like the other people. There were differences though; the man had marks that were still there, the dry streaks from the man’s eyes, the hair that was tossed about, and the fear of going back into the sea of motion. He had never been in the sea, at least as far back as he could remember, but had seen others get pulled into it. For him it was more a curiosity for what it truly was. Seeing the man so calm and relaxed finally staring off into the sea made him realize how much he had been saved from. There was so much that the man had gone through that he wouldn’t because he was out of the sea and because the man was glad to be out, so was he. They were smiling for what they had been saved from.