Surfer

Michael sat on his surfboard, watching the wells of the ocean. It was a good day to be out on the water. He was just at the edge, letting the ends of the waves wash over his feet. He was dressed in a black bodysuit with blue highlights running up the sides, and his long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. Back home, people made fun of him a lot for his appearance. But out on the beach, no one said anything. It was only one reason he spent so much time there.

As the waves started to get bigger, he got up and lifted his surfboard, placing it on his shoulder. he waded out into the water, maybe a half dozen other surfers up and down the beachside matching suit. As the water got up to his knees, waves pushing him back, he threw the surfboard out on top of the surf and hopped on. He clipped a strap connected to it to his ankle, so that he wouldn't lose the board, and started paddling out.

It took a while to get out to the point where the waves rose and fell in such a way that he could actually surf them. He had to paddle his way over some large swells to get into the right position. The anticipation of what was coming filled him with a sense of excitement. Despite the chill of the water, his chest started warming, and a smile spread across his face.

He saw a large crest rising up in the distance, and he scrambled to his feet on the board as it caught up to him. He rose up, the rush of water filling his ears, and the wind blowing in his face. He aimed his board down the wave, maintaining his position on the wall of water, and up ahead of him he saw the top beginning to curve forward and crashing down ahead in a round enclave, leaving space in the middle for him to enter.

He angled down harder, gaining speed to dive into the crash of the wave. He was surrounded by water, yet he was given a space where he could breath, still feel the wind, and move freely. He slipped his hand into the wall of water to his side, feeling it rush over his fingers, and washing the blue face explode into a cloud of white.

He let the wave swallow him as it collapsed fully. He fell down on his board, wrapping his arms around it, and the two were hurled down into the water, spinning hard and fast until they exploded back out to the surface, where he gasped for air. It took him a moment to orient himself, partially because his ponytail had whipped around and covered his eye.

When he had gathered his surroundings, he smiled to himself. Most surfers would never dare let a wave crash on them. But he enjoyed the thrill and shock of it. That moment of uncertainty. He loved every part of surfing, but that part - which all others considered a mistake - he loved more than the rest.

He turned back out to the open water, and began paddling back to do it again.