She wondered how long it would take for someone to presume she was dead. If she just kept floating here, like this, in the middle of the sea. It’s not as if there were many people at the beach today to notice, so it could take an hour…maybe longer. Not that she had the stamina or desire to stay in the water that long. It was just a thought—one of many—she had while languishing there in the water on this random weekday in early June. The June 2nd celebration of Republic Day had just passed, and with it, so, too, did all the vacationers that had a slightly extended weekend. But for Maura, theoretically, every day was a slightly extended weekend. For she had lived in this much sought-after beach town for so long that her reality was tantamount to a nonstop holiday. Alas, when one’s reality is “paradise,” it often turns not only into something “quotidian,” but also into a kind of hell.

However, to the tourists and otherwise “ordinary” inhabitants of the country that would travel far and wide (and usually did) to be here, it remained paradise. Largely because it was difficult to access, just out of reach for the “commoner” forced to be in the world and of the world (this meaning, having the type of job that required living in a metropolis). And during this early June blip just after the holiday, they were all required to stay in and of that world, thus, allowing for an undeniable sense of tranquility, of peace. Maybe the closest thing Maura would liken it to, if she were to explain it to any American (who also happened to be a cinephile), is Michel Gondry and Charlie Kaufman’s depiction of Montauk in the winter in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Though, of course, Maura was well-aware that said movie had gone and ruined any and all sense of that tranquility and peace in said location. It made her pray that no one would ever think to set their movie or TV show here (though she wouldn’t put it past the James Bond franchise to do so). That would surely ruin the last modicum of serenity that still existed during this unique period of the summer.

When Maura had first bought a house in this town for the price of a song, she never could have imagined just how much the area would eventually “pop off.” For it’s not as if she had decided to purchase the “modest beach shack” with the notion of “appreciation” in mind. And what she had bought it for, ultimately, was to escape people. Hence, the irony of so many of them “discovering” this erstwhile “hidden gem.” Indeed, over the years, the town went from being utterly desolate to positively teeming. To the point where an actual corporate grocery store was constructed. Not to mention the various clothing stores and restaurants of a “chain” variety that also came to roost in the wake of the town’s resident and tourism boom. And while Maura knew that most of the other residents were “happy” about these developments—for they had all bought houses with only “appreciation” in mind—she was most definitely not. She instead wished fiercely that the town could just go back to the way it was when she had initially moved there. Kind of like how it felt at this very moment.

Maybe that’s part of why Maura felt so unsettled. As if something was decidedly “off”—and it was related to a phenomenon far more sinister than merely the excuse of “people having to go back to work.” Yes, the more she thought about it, the more she found it incredibly odd that she had been floating in the sea for almost twenty minutes without encountering a soul. Not even so much as a fish. While, at first, Maura found this to be as refreshing as the water itself, it wasn’t too long before she began to feel as uneasy as Mike Ferris in the pilot episode of The Twilight Zone.

Indeed, when Maura finally decided to emerge from the water, the feeling of disquiet didn’t subside, but only augmented. And though she knew she ought to have listened to her intuition and simply turned on her heel in the sand and gone back in the water, she continued forward. One foot in front of the other, as it is said. And the further into town she walked, the clearer it became that there wasn’t a soul (or even someone soulless) for miles. While that might have been her “sweet fantasy” at one point (just minutes ago, really), having it become a reality was more overwhelming and eerie than she could have possibly envisioned. For the current desolate state of things went far beyond what she remembered of the town’s emptiness upon moving there all those years ago. All she had wanted was a return to that—not complete and total barrenness. Christ, is there no in-between? This was what crossed Maura’s mind as she entered the deserted seafood restaurant, the first “port in the storm” she encountered after leaving the beach.

Though, at the very least, there were still a few live lobsters in the tank that “God or whoever” had seen fit to forget about getting rid of amidst whatever this fucked-up spell was. And if it was a spell, didn’t that mean the chance for it to be broken must surely exist? Even if only it was a matter of “waiting it out”? Yes, that must be it. Sooner or later, if Maura could endure the emptiness for long enough, the “spell” would have to expire. For whoever was responsible must surely be watching and laughing from “behind the scenes.” The sadistic fuck.

Well, Maura would just have to prove her endurance levels when it came to her capacity for isolation, for loneliness. Besides, it’s not as if she didn’t feel lonely all the time among people anyway. So what was the difference if no one was there and she still felt lonely anyway? In fact, it was preferable this way. For there’s a reason it’s said that essentially nothing is worse than feeling alone in a crowd as opposed to feeling alone when one is actually alone.

Yet, as the days went on like this, with nary a live being in sight save for those lobsters in the tank at the seafood restaurant, Maura really did start to question both her sanity and her ability to be truly and genuinely alone. If someone had asked her just a week ago if this was what she wanted, she would have surely said yes without hesitation. But now, as much as it pained her pride to admit it, she couldn’t deny that she missed the sensation of “being with others.” Presently not sure if she ever would be again. And no sooner did she allow this admission to cross her mind than, as if someone had been reading it, the town was restored to its hyper-touristic state.

Worse still, it was undoubtedly even more teeming than before. Almost as if to really dig the knife in on that old adage, “Be careful what you wish for.” And yes, only moments before, Maura did wish for this: the return of people. But again, she was left asking herself, Christ, is there no in-between? For no sooner had the hordes re-descended upon the town than she wished she could rescind what she had thought before. But it seemed it was too late. That there were “no take-backs,” so to speak. That “waiting it out” again in the hope of a return to that random “glitch” of post-Republic Day desolation wouldn’t work. This was what she had to live with. Or maybe not. Not if she tried her “floating in the water” gambit anew to see how long it would take someone to presume she might be dead. And yet, something stopped her from trying to drown in the water that was now overflowing with people all around her. For she knew that each and every one of them was far too self-involved to even notice her would-be struggle. Once more prompting her to question what the difference really was between being alone and being among the masses.