He was floating in a vast ocean that seemed not to have an end, ever, for there wasn't a single solid thing near or far away from his sight.
Alone in the middle of the blue water, his white shirt and pants were not wet, but shining like a wool white of a lamb skin.
With eyes closed, his body and mind relaxed, he was enjoying the recent vision of the clouds in the sky, as if wanting to memorize them and guard them in his brain.
Suddenly, it was cut.
"Something had entered the water."
He said to himself.
What he felt was like a stone or whatever thrown into the water that made it crippled.
Turning his eyes to both sides, he saw little waves coming into him.
"Someone else or something must have entered the water, but where?"
Something he felt sure about and at the same time raising himself a question. His mind concluded anyway that a strange thing had just happened.
He pulled himself up and realized he could stand with his feet touching the earth. Though while he was floating, he just felt the water and not anything solid below his body.
Looking around he found himself by the seashore. The water was just reaching his knees.
As he turned more, he saw trees, white sands and himself, that's all.
"Am I alone on an island?"
Slowly he saw reindeers coming out from the vast of tall trees.
"Oh! Am I on Santa Claus' island?"
He could only joke to ease himself down.
On top of him was still a clear blue sky adorned with cotton white colored clouds.
Everything around him sends beautiful, serene feelings to his senses that make him smile and appreciate his surroundings.
"Thank you, Lord."
After that, he saw a surprise.
"In the middle of the seashore, a swinging bed?"
His smiles turned into cracks of laughter as if taking the whole thing as an idea of a joke from his friend, The Pen.
He shook his head and started to walk towards the seashore and leave the water as he was about fifty meters away.
"Here we go my friend. Put me into slumber so we can get back to work."
Then he stopped a minute, thinking of what he just said and looked around.
"Or I am already on it? Am I dreaming already?"
He saw the swinging bed and decided rather to sleep then, really.
He reached the bed. It was tied both sides to nearby trees. It was in his favorite colors of dark marine blue and made of quality material as it felt to be a strong knitted rope.
"Beautiful!"
He realized the bed has its own blue pillow as well. He touched it to feel if it was soft. It was. But there was more than that, so he lifted it up.
"A pen and a notebook!"
This time, even his head was pushed backward by a strong laugh he gave to himself.
He raised up to the swinging bed. Instead of laying back to enjoy it, the bed made him sit straight with the pillow as his back support.
Several times, he tried to lie down but he could not.
Once again, he laughed to his heart's delight.
"I get it! I get it! This bed is for working, not for sleeping."
Grabbing the pain and notebook, he sat straight and used his knees as if they were his table.
First, he looked at the blank pages of the yellow sun covered notebook. Took in deep breath and switched his attention towards the ocean.
Suddenly, his eyes showed him a different scenario.
Around him was blackness. Total darkness. He found himself floating as if he was in outer space like an astronaut, but dressed in his plain white clothes.
He felt as if he was a spirit or ghost going here and there. Just like the wind blowing wherever it wants.
In the distance, he noticed some glimmering lights. He went to find out.
"Beautiful!"
He encountered himself in the middle of galaxies, planets, stars and everything that existed in that black space, all in their own colors and shapes. He strayed from one to the other, roaming and enjoying the moment and opportunity given.
He confirmed, in outer space there was no time. Of course, he wasn't wearing a watch but his white clothes. So he could not tell exactly if it would even work.
Then he stopped.
He saw things coming out from some planets spewed into outer space.
The planets were separated by vast, unmeasurable spaces between each other. Though they have those distances, his vision could see and witness that many planets were doing the same.
More curiosity came inside him and urged him to have a closer look. For some reason, he could not do it. The more he tried, the more the distances between them grew. So he gave up.
Moments came when some of them exploded suddenly and gave the outer space a share of their debris that shook the quietness around the universe itself.
What used to be an enjoyable journey started to send alarms to his senses. Each time there was a noise like the bang of a gong, things got worse around him.
He felt lonely. Tears started to fall from his eyes. He chose to close his eyes to quit himself from seeing more damages to the universe. Suddenly something made him open his eyes.
"The Sun!"
On his back, he saw the sun burning into an unimaginable strength, but he did not feel anything, not a heat.
"The Sun is angry!"
He witnessed how the inside of the Sun cracked itself from the inside as if someone in deep anguish had to shout from the deepest of the heart to release pain.
Turning around, he saw the moon.
Before his eyes, he witnessed how that big moon was slowly invaded and filled by the debris and garbage thrown into outer space. In due time, it turned dark and dirty.
"Heaven forbid!"
The writer sobbed in desperation as his mind was imagining the worst scenario, the destiny of all the beauty he has found in the universe.
There was a big, unthinkable magnitude of a shake around him. He lifted his face from his hands as he was kneeled, caused by his trembled legs.
Unknown to him, something must have happened somewhere. He felt the same feeling when he was floating in the water.
Swifting around, he noticed that everything was freezed. No more movements, not a thing around him was moving.
From the top of his head, he saw a light. Standing back to his feet, he comprehended the return of the empty black space. It was similar to a big black cloth and in its middle there was a small white spot.
"That light seemed to be so, so distant."
His mind has given him a clue of what it was.
"A toe!"
Slowly, his mind was introducing a wider view of what he was seeing.
"A foot!"
Starting from the view of a toe, it was completing its presence as if getting itself down from somewhere unimaginable and submerging itself into space.
Then he understood.
"Someone is coming!"
His eyes were shocked and amazed at the same time that even if he tried to close them, he could not make it.
As the sight come closer, it was taking its shape into full completion.
"That same human figure in my stories is here again!"
He murmured to himself.
Inside though, he strangely felt gladness, relaxed and in peace on what was in front of him as it was then starting to move.
"Describe it, The Pen!"
He shouted with joy.
"It was Him!"
He claimed as he was witnessing the entrance into darkness of that human form.
"Was it a spirit?"
He doubted as it came like white clouds from the far. It extended a couple of arms ahead whose hands were in golden colors as bright as the face without lines to shape it and whose feet were of the same golden sun color.
Behind him, his shadow seemed to be a row of countless others like him that became more and more in numbers as he came closer. The total view was like that of a giant dove in fully opened wings.
"Amazingly beautiful!"
From somewhere inside them came out some with trumpets. They separated themselves and flew alongside as if announcing his coming.
The writer wanted to run towards them. Providentially, he failed in all his attempts. It was impossible to ever make a step.
He shifted his eyes towards those holding trumpets.
"They are angels!"
He smiled and felt thankful for such a revelation.
The sight went on for sometime. Until another one from the shadow came out and went in front with something on the hands that he unluckily could reach to see.
The angel went in front of the rest and threw something into space.
The writer wanted and tried to follow where it was going but he fell. This time he fell from his swinging bed.
As he lifted up from the ground he flashed back to his reality. He was on a summer vacation on a Christmas Day.
With the family, he resolved to go to a beautiful beach, rented a summer house that has a swinging bed made of knitted rope by the seashore under a tree.
He recognized his notebook and pen dropped on the white sands with him. He had fallen asleep after finalizing his written story, the mission of The Pen.
He held his completed story written in his notebook, pen without ink and his breath then slowly breathed out again, looking at the clean blue sky. He closed his eyes and said a prayer.
Then he heard the last whisper.
"Fill me up again. We aren't done yet."
His pen fell. He looked down to pick it up while laughing softly.
"Of course!"
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