Twenty
The first thing he noticed was that the rain was gone. No cold, hard drops fell from the sky. He also noticed the wind wasn’t whipping him around. It was a lot warmer here. The strength had returned, but it wasn’t whole yet. He’d just lay here a bit longer, waiting for the final wave to come in.
The place he was in now seemed a lot better, but he couldn’t be sure. His senses all seemed dulled and muted. His tongue was thick in his mouth, seeming to fill up all the available room. He couldn’t taste his saliva or teeth. Hell, his tongue didn’t even seem to move. He could feel that the floor below him was hard and dry, but that was about it. It seemed cold, but he couldn’t be sure; hot and cold were becoming distant memories. An intermittent buzzing came to his ears, far away and tinny. If he concentrated he could hear more, almost make out individual sounds. Sounded like someone talking, but he couldn’t be sure. He had a feeling this would change when the final waves came through. He hoped it would. He wasn’t comfortable being blind to everything.
Blind! Eyes! He gathered all the strength that had returned to him and tried to pry open his eyelids. One came open and he seemed to be looking through vaseline-covered glass. No details were evident. Smears of greys and a few scattered colors were all that made their way onto his retina. A few seconds later the other lid followed suit, but his perception stayed the same. Or did it? It seemed to be clearing slightly. Yes, he was sure he could make out shapes better now, the light came in more strongly than it had a few seconds ago.
His senses weren’t the only thing coming back. Something seemed to turn over in the lower part of his body. A gnawing started in his stomach, a gnawing that couldn’t be ignored. He needed to eat. Anything, everything. Something. He needed to eat. The pain was almost violent, threatening to consume him whole from the inside if he didn’t satisfy it. His lips peeled back as he tried to suck air over his tongue with lungs that didn’t want to respond; they did, finally, but slowly. He could taste meat on the air.
His left hand, sprawled at the end of his arm, clenched into a fist, then relaxed into a claw.