Coastal IslandSciFi Writer

The Embracement

     It stands up above the ocean, where two mountain ranges are connected by a vast waterfall to the jungle valley below. The island stays within its allotted boundary, far from the more mobile tectonic plates, and lets water rush its own convincing response to gravity. All around the island the ocean holds itself in relative silence (it's had its fill of iron oxides and potash from the Continent II mining corporations giving its distinctive lime green, and more importantly, accumulations of iron nitrates, creating a permanent death zone, but of course the humans are working on it). The island itself , somehow, feels no such pressure from those irons and the nitrates, in fact the island seems to be oblivious of any emission coming from the ocean. There is a sense that any body that washes into the ocean would attract nothing active, no shark frenzy awaiting demise, no rip tides, no ocean current streams, nothing, only the stillness of lime green and its petroleum eating bacteria; other than that, not a thing--unless, of course, you count the lapping of the shoreline as nothing. It would seem that even the green moss hanging from huge black trees have arrived here by mistake too, the iron nitrates are odd even to them. Yes, that's it. the island itself has been on its own secret journey, taking Nature and her vast powers and sheer dimensions along for the ride, as if on an excursion to an amusement park, or, better yet, a State Fair, at least if those so-called states still existed. This island stands proud, erect, nothing can overwhelm her here. She is both a beacon and something else, yes, something to embrace.