He didn’t know how he ended up in a place like this, but all he did know was that his calloused hands felt rough in the (to him had to be), fabricated sand. The sun was out, with no clouds to interfere, yet the man was colder than he’d ever been. Small waves curled and glided to his feet, little by little washing the rough surface smooth. Blood trickled out of his bottom lip, as well as his left eyebrow, but he didn’t notice it. Too many things were on his mind. He eyed the scenery of what he confirmed to be an island, for the land consisted of only a small forest of palm trees, sand, small wheat grass, and no more than a few running crabs. The man loved the ocean, but as he idly watched the tide flee and return, he felt the most sincere emotions of anger, spite, and loneliness. There was nothing to see beyond the orange horizon.

He washed his sordid body in the waves, and quietly paced back to the island. He went to the trees, and hastily scavenged some mangos and coconut before he sat down to eat. After his belly was somewhat content, he filtered the cold sand through his fingers as he dreamed of home. He had only been on the island a day, with no memory of how, and already missed his home. Maybe that’s perfectly natural, the man thought. Though, back home he was no one special; just a man working for his food and nothing else. Just enough to get by. Yet, he missed it. 

The bleak, and useless sun was beginning to disappear behind the distant waters, and the man was now taking a stroll around the island, hoping to remember something about his whereabouts, and the cause of him being here. The island was no larger than a square mile, so it only took him a dozen minutes to travel back to the same place under the still palm trees, though he was now tired, and layed down to look up in the sky. The stars were out, but they were much more dull than he remembered stars to be, and the tepid water made no noise. He was led to believe the ocean was to be full of noise and excitement. He felt the wind against his face, but it felt much more like a fan than natural air, and the trees and the sand did not move. Only his hair lifted from his scalp. Thinking of this, he fell into a deep rest. 

* * *

Bogus! the man believed. 

It’s been months on this island, and yet I still have food to last a year! This is a simulation! Fraudulent! None of this is real! Spurious! This is not a real world… island! It can’t be! 

“Get me out of this mockery!” the man beseeched at the plastic walls painted as the sky. The silent, and still birds in the air drifting about. 

Seeing this, the pugnacious man wept, alone.