Something tapped at his cheek. It was a gentle, lingering touch. Then it faded. Then it came again, only to fade once more. This process repeated itself a multitude of times, increasing in pressure ever so slightly each time, every iteration bringing his that much closer to awareness. With a slowness that would make scientists of an empirical bent question whether it happened at all, he regained consciousness

At long last, he came to the realization that it was, in fact, the rising tide that poked and prodded him. “I don’t mean to impose, but I am the ocean”, he thought wryly, and at long last got up