SNIPPET FROM "SOLACE"
The bluest parts of the ocean were almost at their darkest as the last glimmer of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. Soon, it would be too cold to stay put. Faro took another swig of whiskey, hoping it would keep him warmer for longer. There was a certain time of the evening when the light was just right, casting silver shimmers off the top of the water. It looked like something out of a fairytale to him. As if the ocean had suddenly filled with magic. It was better to look out over the water, that way he could continue to ignore the terrible state of his boat. It was his home, too, and he had never been a domestic man. Someone else had always been there to pick up after him. As it turned out, in the end, he didn’t mind living in a pigsty. He still knew where everything was, and nobody would ever visit, so it didn’t matter. All he needed was the ever-changing views of the horizon, and he could ignore what lay behind closed doors.
The ocean was rich and full of life. The same could not be said for Faro. He hadn’t eaten a vegetable in months. Sometimes he would buy fresh fruit as an attempt to take care of himself, but it was usually thrown away a few days at the first sign of rot. It never stopped him from buying fruit again. On his boat, he had nobody to prove himself to. When he was buying groceries, however, people could see him. The fruit was bought to trick complete strangers into thinking he cared about himself. In reality, he didn’t.
It had been a long time since Faro felt that he had anything to live for, but he was too afraid to die. He’d never quite made his mind up about whether or not he believed in Heaven and Hell. He wasn’t sure he was completely ready to find out, either. Instead, he spent his days in isolation on a boat out on the water. It’s not the direction he expected his life to go. A younger version of himself might have found this reality laughable. He had become nothing like the man he’d been before, but as he sipped his whiskey and stared out over the dark expanse of the ocean, he could convince himself that he was happy, even if only for those few minutes.
It wasn’t until the rumbling in his stomach had snapped him out of his daydream that he reached for the bottle at his feet and shuffled inside, his warm breath visible before him in the cold night air. He knew exactly how to step to avoid the clutter on the ground. It was sprawled out throughout the spacious cabin. At any given time of day or night, it looked inside as if someone had been frantically searching for something. Faro was certain that he could walk with his eyes closed, and never bump a thing. He’d lived with the clutter for so long that the flattened boxes at the entrance to the cabin almost seemed like a rug to him, and the stack of magazines now functioned as a small table for his ashtray. Somewhere underneath all the mess, there was a couch, but Faro barely remembered the color of it. It was largely covered in old newspapers, empty cigarette boxes, and a couple of old blankets that he no longer used.
Reaching into the dirty sink, he pulled out whichever spoon he reached first, blasting it under the warm water before drying it on his pants. One quick reach over the large pile of pots at the sink and he was into the cupboard, grabbing whichever can of food was first within his reach. Without even checking the label, he peeled back the top of the can and took his usual spot on his bed for dinner. The nights got a bit boring for Faro sometimes, and he often considered getting a television. He wasn’t certain he’d be a fan of the noise, and that would require more time in public to buy one, so he had ultimately decided against it. On nights like this, though, he wished he had something else to look at other than the shoe-scuffed cabin wall in front of him.
The can of food had been emptied, and Faro had taken his last swig of whiskey before pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes. It was a dead-quiet night at sea that night. The boat was rocking gently, and he’d managed to keep most of the cold air out on his way into the cabin. It was the perfect condition for Faro to be lulled gently to sleep. He let his mind wander, imaging large gardens, focusing on the details of every shape and color in his mind. He could feel the world around him growing distant as sleep crept closer. It wouldn’t be long until he would be in a deep sleep. Until an unexpected sound jerked him from his slumbering state.
Knock, knock, knock.
