The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

From out of the foamy, chilly sea Arthur emerged still clothed in only the same filthy garb that he had been trapped inside of for the past few months. His crippled and decrepit body stumbled upon the shore with the waves pushing him down every so often.

His entire body felt just like a soaking sponge that was full of salt and seaweed. There were traces of blood laced all over his beard from where he had feasted upon fish on his journey back home. His sore legs and arms wobbled with every step he made onto the hot beach. His eyes could barely make out what was in front of him. To Arthur, everything was a blur thanks in part to the saltiness that had encrusted his eyelids.

His long excursion in the water never seemed to weigh too heavily upon his mind; instead he was enamored with just being on the shores of his homeland after such a long period of time. Just being able to walk barefoot upon the sands granted him a momentary respite from the overbearing pain that both his body and soul was in.

Arthur plodded across the near empty beach. The people in the far away distance were mere dots in his eyes. He could have committed ghastly murder where he was and no one would have noticed. He kept on and on until a presence suddenly seized his entire being. Arthur stopped right where he was and gazed all around the open area before his eyes eventually caught sight of something just a few yards ahead of him. He stammered down the beach before coming to what appeared to be pieces of burnt wood just scattered aimlessly on the shore. There were remnants of what looked to be the ragged remains of a former structure, possibly a tiny hut at one time.

Arthur knelt down and studied the black pieces of wood before his eyes connected with small, white fragments to his immediate left. The man reached over and picked up the objects before realizing what exactly they were.

He smelled and licked the bone fragments before he tossed them back down to the sand. Arthur then stood back up, and with a disgruntled glare on his old face he began to walk away only to be suddenly halted by the sound of someone aching right behind him.

swirl about forming a sandy pair of legs, arms, hands and eventually a head from out of nowhere. Arthur stood in complete stillness at the astonishing sight that he of all people should have never been amazed at to begin with. The figure was nothing more than a form of black dirt and sand, but the eyes that

gasping for air while standing above Arthur. "Why are you

Weeping with his face to the sand,

thing stood and peered down at Arthur with its pair of white eyes. "But you

de master

"The master granted you de most of his favor, and you have

"Forgive

"Stand before me,

slap him right across the face which in turn caused him to

plead your case!" The thing raised its scratchy voice. "You are not worthy of de gift. You are a