Note : The following is a continuation to a story this author started writing last year. While he believes in the idea of intertextuality, he is also a firm believer of the concept of intellectual property, and will invoke his rights under the Copyright Law to the full extent, should his story be subjected to acts of plagiarism.
Theo turned to follow the village procession, looking away from the sun’s slow death in the west when for a moment he heard a familiar voice call out to him from the breaking waves. He closed his eyes, feeling his feet struggle for solid ground as the world spun fast with the sudden mention of his name. He suddenly felt his mouth drying up, his throat gasping for air—reluctant to name the voice that drew nearer with every syllable of his name repeated in the wind. He knew the voice too well as to tell if it was happy or scared, frightened or sad, hopeful or desperate. This time it is all at once.