A boy named Jim found me one day. We walked on the beach together. For hours. He’d hold my hand and take me to places unheard of. We went to the desert often. Most times, I wouldn’t remember what we did there. Strange. But then again, Jim was a strange boy. I liked that about him. I liked his strangeness, his verse, his serpentine appearance and his voice. His voice kept pulling me back to him again and again. It was soothing and all-encompassing. He would tell me many times that the end was near, I believed him. One moonlit night, we were walking on the beach. It was warm there; I could feel the salty breeze all over my body. Or maybe that was just his tongue. I can’t remember very well. I don’t remember much from that night actually. I just remember his voice, calm as always. He was singing things I couldn’t understand but they sounded beautiful. We took a turn and started walking into the water. It seemed like the right thing to do. I don’t remember fighting the waves; his voice said they didn’t exist so we kept walking. And then there was nothing.