a walk on the beach

It was deserted. The beach. I was walking all alone as the early evening sun shone. The sand glowed in all its purity reflecting the mellow gold of the sun. I looked around. All around and it was miles and miles of nothingness. I looked down for a moment; and then held my head up straight and started walking towards no particular direction. Soon, I realized that there was someone or something approaching me. I paused. I looked intently to see what was coming ahead of me. I could only feel it. A few seconds passed. I knew there were many. Not knowing whether to move or not, I stood still until the sight of the unknown became clearer. It was a group of cyclists. They were many and from nowhere. Their features were oriental; distinctly. They cycled around me obliviously. No words or glances exchanged. Baffled, as I stood there, I noticed one of the cyclists had an extra cycle with no rider. We exchanged glances. He wanted me to hop on. I did. No questions asked. No explanations sought. I hopped on to the empty cycle which rode on as it had found its rider. I just had to be part of this party. Hardly a few minutes and I saw the cyclists following the leader into the sea. My anxiety began to grow. I looked around hopelessly to find an answer. I pedaled along. The next minute, I was riding in the sea. The water rose gradually engulfing my lower torso completely. There was a strange kind of joy on my face as I realized I was pedaling effortlessly. And so did the others. The water rose. Immersed me till my chest. The party rode on. The skies grew grey with every passing second. There was a huge boulder comfortably sunk. The water level rose. I was neck deep. The pack turned around the boulder as the sky turned darker. I followed. Continuing to pedal effortlessly and feeling the water level rise again. I rode on.