Unwanted Inflation

Toby grumbled under his breath, the stormy sea picking up around him, waves grey and reflecting the swathe of storm clouds above him, covering the sky as if they yearned to plunge down into the tumultuous depths. There was a ferocity in them, even though his eye could not pick out their movement as he bobbed on his surfboard, muttering under his breath something about having to come back to land early for the day, not able to keep on with his surfing while the waves chopped up into froths of broken white horses.

Alas, the blonde surfer with his hair plastered to his head was not destined to ever reach land again as he was, the beach taunting him from a distance. The sandy shores, of course, were not for him anymore, chest tightening as fear closed in around him, thrown from his bored, the world moving in slow-motion. The waves crashed, pounding him down beneath the surf, the choppy water snarling like a beast of the depths that was solely intent on crushing him at all costs.

Down and down and down... But he was light, so very light, floating and drifting, flying back to the surface as if he was filled with helium. Even then, he could not help but throat but there was no gasping of any kind to come from his lips, bobbing and dipping, the ankle strap from his board long gone. There was nothing to anchor him there as he rolled his head and tried to cling onto something, anything, something to anchor him in place amongst the storm. He'd left it too long, however, and the changes had set in, though Toby was not destined to lose his life dashed upon the rocks like so many other surfers who had braved the storm for too long.

No, his fate was to be very different, a fate that would twist his life into something to please others and solely others, no more than that. His skin bloated out, ballooning, stretching, cheeks full of air as he tried to find what it was in himself that lifted him up. There was nothing he could do to sink and neither did he want to, though there was only so much he could do in that regard. His fate was beyond his control as his arms plumped out, fat and unwieldy, not that any part of his body was left within his control after all that had happened.

At least he did not need to breathe even as the pounding of his heart slowed and stilled, dropping lower and lower, beyond his capabilities. What he was to the world was nothing at all, twisting back and forth, his limbs thick, not his own. They pulled up as if he was to become a quadruped but it was something cartoonish and comedic, something that did not bear resemblance to something that he would be familiar with in reality. For Toby had no children and no family left for such frivolities as he blew up, his back smoothing out, skin tight like rubber and lacking the flexibility as he puffed up with more and more air.

His mind faded, slowly but surely, for it was no longer needed. He held his breath where it was supposed to be as his organs softened, disappearing as if they had never been, something pushing from his buttocks to curl up in a flirty flick. There was no sense of any manner of clothing remaining on his body but he knew too as he faded away, tossed upon the waves of the stormy sea, that that they would not be needed.

Inflatables didn't wear clothes.

Black and white: he wore simple markings. His tongue would have lolled if he was a real dog but, of course, he was nothing more nor less than an inflatable husky, his paws fat and unwieldy, everything on show. He might have wriggled and squirmed if he'd had the capacity or physicality to do so, but his mind was gone, face permanently fixed in a doggish grin, the pink of his tongue showing and yet not lolling out. It was just a smile, a fixed sort of smile, ears pricked and tugging up, although it was a blessing at least that they could not be flattened by even the force of the water.

Sometimes, even air could push back against the force and the power of the sea itself.

The inflatable swelled, growing another size, large enough for an adult to ride, a dip in the back providing an easy seat for someone who needed to perch there comfortably. That was something for calmer waters, however, less stormy seas, times that were for fun and for play, the sunshine beaming down to light up the world after the storm was done and passed. That world, however, would never again be one that Toby would experience in the same light.

The inflatable bobbed, his eyes blank and unknowing, staring out at a world that he no longer understood, comfortably plumped up with air and floating away on waters that were no longer for him. His board was long gone but there was nothing left in him that would ever need it again, not even as the storm cleared and he bobbed, slowly but surely, in to shore with a sodden scrap of seaweed cast over his ear.

Plastered to the side of his bulging cheek, fixed in that eerie grin, the inflatable husky knew nothing else, tail curled, his body poised, ready for the fun that he would never know again in the light of day.

A shadow fell over him, the weak, morning sunshine illuminating him softly where the shadow did not darken his skin. The manager of the beach bar scratched his chin thoughtfully, though it was no time to dally when there was clean-up still yet to be done before guests arrived, seagulls calling out above.

"Huh... Where did this come from?"

No one would know but Toby would be much-loved on the beach as the surf shop hired him out for summer fun, the fixed face of the husky firmly put into a lolling, open-mouthed smile.

Was he happy or not? No one would ever be able to tell.