Garret felt water lapping at his feet when he awoke, and a gritty feeling in his mouth. He tried to open his eyes, but found it too hard, so he laid in darkness for a spell, the gentle waves caressing his feet. The same gritty sensation which filled his mouth was present where his body met the ground. It itched.
When Garret pushed himself into a sitting position, he found himself on a beach. Agh, it was bright. He brushed the sand from his eyelashes as he looked himself over. He had nothing to speak of on his person, save the clothes he had been wearing last night - a light polyester shirt, and some jeans - and they were worse for the wear. His jeans were frayed at numerous points. Those were new, damn it.
Garret was scratched and bruised, but nothing seemed amiss. He had been carefully relived of all his possessions, however. Every last thing - wallet, watch, keys, phone, even shoes - had been gracefully snatched from him.
Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to vomit wracked his body, and a delightful mixture of sand and seawater spilled out of his mouth, accompanied by what appeared to be the remnants of some well-done ribs. As the tide washed it away, Garret glanced at his surroundings.
The beach he had just soiled stretched on for miles to either side of him, with the occasional cactus interrupting the sand, though the horizon betrayed mountainous regions further in the distance. Ahead of him, where sand turned into dirt, lay the beginnings of a forest, and behind him, the sea of sand turned into one of water. The vast expanse of liquid shone brightly beneath the sun, and was warm to the touch. It was only now that Garret realized a faint burning sensation beneath his feet. He ran for the trees.