text: Patrick was about a mile out to sea in one of those rugged, plastic, yellow kayaks. He had already had more than a few drinks that afternoon thanks to the all-inclusive food and drink policy at the resort. Looking back for a second, with the double edged paddle resting over his legs, the shore was distant, and maybe it was the alcohol, but it wasn't that scary to be that removed from the shore's safety. At that distance, the waves had died down and were rather mild; they were more of a drift than anything else. The water was a deep blue and the ocean floor was no longer visible. The air smelled entirely like seawater and really the only sound he could hear was a faint breeze against his ears. During that moment he realized how alone he was. A mile away from anyone else, a totally remote maritime vastness, completely unoccupied, lay ahead of him, and he was totally occupying that space individually, and it just felt, well it felt free. It was like a moment of Zen, or experiencing the Tao; it was a removal from society, at least mentally, and was the first thing he had ever experienced anywhere near those lines. The sun above was burning his skin, he knew he would have a sunburn after this was all over, but it didn't matter. Scooping up some of the ocean's water, he cupped it over his head. The cooling effect was like a physical ecstasy. It could have been a minute or it could have been thirty minutes but as soon as this bliss started it began to creep back like coming down from a high. He knew it was an inherently fleeting experience. “What is another mile?” he thought “let's do one more and I'll turn back to shore.” Some reasoning set in, far, far, back in his consciousnesses, but the experience was too fresh. “Fuck it” he thought, and started to put his paddle back into the water.