I cannot remember a thing. My memory wears a heavy veil. My brain feels like it is pulsating within my skull.

Where am I?

I can sense the filtered light more than I can feel it, then realise my eyes are closed. I open my eyes to see the sky above me. The clouds provide a matching veil to the one draped across my mind. I try to sit up but cannot. My arms do not feel as if they are connected to the rest of me. I will them to work but stubbornly they refuse, like octopi tentacles with a mind of their own. Next I try to raise my knees up but they just laugh at me.

What happened?

I try to take a journey through my memories but they are not there. Nothing is there. It is like I did not exist until this moment in time. Is that possible? Have I just arrived? I cannot even recollect a name. A tingling sensation in my left hand snaps me back from the dark trap that my mind has become, or simply is? I breathe long and deep before I try again. With all the effort I can muster, I will myself to move. Yes, something is happening. The little finger of my left hand bends and scratches the ground beneath it, and the ground gives a little. The sensation is amazing. Who could know that such a little gesture could bring so much happiness but above this, relief?

I am exhausted. The effort expended for this one simple act has left me bereft. Once more I lay still, my thoughts my only companions. I have to say, I am not too keen on them at present. They keep pestering me with questions like a four year old child. They don't mean to annoy but the incessancy takes its toll. Who am I? Where am I? What happened? I attempt to placate my companions and explain to them that I have not got the answers but this they do not want to hear, so on, and on they go in endless circles. Eventually I drift off to sleep and leave them to it. Maybe by the time I wake, they will have the answers or I, myself can lift the veil.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
I think I am awake. A brief moment of peacefulness before my companions return with their constant need for attention. I taste a metallic salty wetness upon my lips. I open my eyes and am overjoyed to discover that I have regained partial control of what I assume is my body. As I slowly and consciously move my head to the right I see water. Lots of water. A great expanse surging out as far as the eye can see. I feel a coarseness and grittiness against my cheek. Sand. Well, that is going to get everywhere! These things I see and feel, at least appeases one of my companions. Where am I? has slunk off to a dark corner somewhere semi-satisfied with my answer -- on a beach.

I must be getting more feeling back now as I feel pain rampaging through my extremities. It is momentary but it is severe. I try to cry out but as yet cannot. Again I breathe long and deep, as if this can dull the pain. When the pain does eventually subside I try for some minor miracles and this time I am rewarded handsomely. The pain has reconnected my synapses to my limbs and I live again, or is it for the first time? Despite the pounding in my head, I sit up, and stare at the massive body of water on display in front of me. I sit like this for I do not know how long, transfixed by the ebb and flow of the tide. There is still a certain degree of numbness around myself and it is not until a gentle breeze rides in on the surf do I realise I am naked. It is at this point that I also realise that I am a fully grown man.

I stand up and for the first time survey my surroundings in a different direction from the sea. Behind me there is a meadow dotted with wildflowers and long grass. I can now hear grasshoppers chirping as they go about their business. How do I know of meadows, wildflowers and grasshoppers but not my name, my whereabouts or my circumstance? The mind is a fragile and complex thing but the simple answer is, I don't have a clue. I probe the darkness held within again and again but the walls are robust and the drawbridge is up. My memories, it appears, are prepared for a siege. I walk along the beach, bare footed, wallowing in the glorious feeling of the sand under my toes. I have quietened my unruly companions by focusing on being in the moment. Savouring each and every sensation as they come. The feel of the sun upon my skin. The gentle breeze that pricks up the hair on the back of my arms, among other places. The sand as it rolls between my toes and gets into places it has no right to be in. The sound of the tide lapping against the rocks and the beach. It is a time of perfection, in an imperfect situation.

As the day draws in and dusk prepares to request an audience, I sit on a small rock with my feet dangling into the shallow, warm waters below. As I stare at the horizon, I see something in the distance. Is it a distant rain cloud? A Shadow? A boat? Please, not more companions for me to carry, I think to myself. So, intent on watching this anomaly am I that I did not hear him coming.

"Hello there," he says, "Are you okay? You look a bit distracted."

I reply to him, without even looking, "There is something on the horizon, just there." I point in the direction.

"Not sure I see anything. It could just be a trick of the light, or the mind," he responds.

`This makes me laugh. I trick of the mind. This could simply be a trick of the mind! The newcomer looks at me strangely but also with radiating compassion. I find it unnerving, especially given my current attire. I turn towards him being careful to contain my... myself.

He looks at me as if he has known me my entire life.

I ask of him, "Do you know me?"

"Yes, as well as I know any man," he replies.

"Then we are close?" I inquire.

"Not that close!" he says gesturing towards my nakedness. I grow somewhat embarrassed and lower my head. At this point, seemingly out of nowhere, he produces a pair of off-white linen trousers and a tunic to match, "Put these on."

I readily pull on the clothes he has given me. When I am dressed, I realise that my previous companions have been silent for some time. It is as if the veil has shrouded them too. Somehow the answers they sought seem less significant but I cannot explain how, or why. I look at the stranger who waits patiently for me. I do not think I know him but I want to trust him. More than that, I think I already do.

"I am sorry but I seem to have forgotten your name, amongst a great many other things," I say.

"Forgotten? Are you sure you have 'forgotten' me?" he appears amused rather than upset or slighted. "It does not matter. All that matters are that you are here now."

We sit together upon the rocks. My mind once filled with questions, was at rest. Calm like the waters we look out upon. There were a few itches around the edge, much like the waves lapping at the rocks, slowly eroding them over time. It is quite some time before I realise that he has not told me his name. I am about to ask him again when he suddenly arises and says,

"You know, you were right earlier. There is definitely something on the horizon and it appears to be heading this way."

I too stand and try to focus my eyes to the distance. There is definitely something coming. And coming fast. It is dark but that could be a trick of the light. I look from the figure to the man who had befriended me but he is not there. I look all around but he is nowhere to be seen. I spin around quickly several times trying to catch a glimpse of him somewhere, anywhere but no, I am once again alone. But not for long. More questions bubbled up inside my head. Who was he? Where did he go? What did he want? And of course, not to be outdone, my old companions launched their own assault with renewed vigour. This goes on for quite some time with my head fit to burst and yet the veil stays rigidly down.

The next time I look to the horizon, the blur is a lot closer still. I can almost make out its shape. I look at the sky and can see the moon already putting in an appearance even though the sun had yet to depart. And both are still shining giving an eerie glow to the water. The shape seems to be almost hovering on the water as opposed to scything through it.

"Paul". The sound of his name makes me lose my balance for a moment almost sending me into the water. I slip and flail for a moment or two before steadying myself once again, "And may I enquire as to your name?" he asks of me.

Without hesitation, without conscious thought, I reply, "Christopher" and I know it to be true. The veil is rising. Will I like what I find? Did I want to know? Was it important? I like it here. It is peaceful, uncomplicated, a paradise?

"I remember now. My name is Christopher."

Paul smiles at me. He is the most serene and composed man I had ever come across. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Christopher. It is regrettable that we do not have much time left together," he says as he gestures out to sea.

I turn to see the shape, now more visible almost to the shore. It was a boat. A boat of dark wood, almost black and a hooded figure stood by the rudder. The veil drops, allowing memories, thoughts, and jumbled feelings to come roaring out, all fighting for supremacy in my brain. I clamp my hands to the sides of my head as if that could contain them! In an instant I knew what had happened. I fall to my knees.

I weep.

I felt the light of the truck's headlamps boring into my eyes, blinding me. I raised my arms in front of myself and closed my eyes. Even with my eyes closed the halogen-bulb headlights glowed through my eyelids. Glass shatters, explodes everywhere. Shards of metal rip through my car, roaring in my ears as they fly past, until one piece doesn't. It hits me, takes one arm clean off. I taste the warm, metallic saltiness of my own blood on my lips before the veil comes down and then I feel nothing. I was on my way to the hospital to see my wife. She had gone into early labour. I don't know whose fault it was. I was preoccupied, maybe the truck driver was tired. Either way, I am here.

I weep still.

I feel a hand upon my shoulder, light and tender, then a soft voice saying "It is time". I look up expecting to see Paul there but it is not him. The figure is shrouded in black robes, hood up, pole in one hand, the other upon my shoulder. I stare into the hooded face but am greeted only with darkness. What secrets did it hold? How many companions were held within? It spoke again,

"It is time."

I know that it is so. As I climb into the dark boat, Paul reappears at my side and presses a small bag into my hand. He says,

"For the journey, Christopher, you have a long way to go but only hand this over when you reach the other side. It is most important."

I stare at him dumbfounded, struggling to come to terms with the last ten minutes of my life. Except it wasn't life, was it? The hooded figure pushes off from the beach and we start the long journey across the tides. It does not speak again. I open the bag Paul had pushed on me and peered inside. The metal within glints in the light of the setting sun. I count them as the hooded figure offers to take them off my hands. Remembering Paul's words I decline. With a last look, I tie up the 30 pieces of silver in their pouch and put it in my pocket. I turn to wave to Paul who is still on the beach. I shout to him,

"It looks just like we're heading for the setting sun," as bright light starts to dip into the watery horizon.

The last thing I remember as I am engulfed by the blinding light was Paul answering,

"Good bye and good luck, my friend, that is not the sun."