"She was weaving a golden thread of ecstacy from which there was no escape."
LEE GOONA lay upon the coral beach like a lifeless thing. His clothes were dripping with water and there were bits of seaweed clinging to his face. Every time a wave boomed up on the beach it broke in foam over his prostrate body, laving his face as though it were an elixir of life fighting to bring him back to consciousness. Again and again the water surged about him, toilsomely, endlessly. Utter solitude reigned. Not a sound broke the stillness except the booming of the waves.
Finally he opened his eyes. Everything swam giddily before his gaze. The universe was whirling round and round. To shut out the chaotic blur he closed his eyes again and rested. He clawed at the wet beach, reaching for life from the breast of the earth. For a few minutes he remained thus. Then slowly once more he gazed about him. Now the dizziness had lessened somewhat. He was able to make out objects dimly. Beyond him, beyond the rim of coral beach, stretched a fringe of palm-trees, the fronds of which stood out eerily against the sky. The whole sky was yellow, a pungent golden yellow, as though the sun had been a liquid globe that had suddenly burst, flooding everything in glistening splendor. Then he looked off toward the sea. Never had he beheld anything so fantastically beautiful. It was purple, as purple as the robes of kings. The foaming waves were as white as a trimming of ermine.
He had not the slightest idea where
