A Bigger Island

In the middle of a sprawling New York City, with its unrelenting noise and dizzying crowds, Kai found themselves lost in memories of a different kind of place—a place far away from subways and skyscrapers. That place was a remote desert island, the only world Kai had known as a child, and in many ways, a piece of it still lived in them.

Sitting in a crowded coffee shop, Kai took a sip from their latte and closed their eyes, letting the sounds around them fade into the background. They could almost hear the rustle of palm fronds, the gentle crash of waves, and the occasional call of a seagull soaring overhead. The concrete jungle couldn’t be more different from the island they’d once called home, and yet, the memories felt as vivid as yesterday.

As a child, Kai’s world was a paradise of wide-open skies, endless beaches, and rugged cliffs. The days were defined by the rhythm of the tides and the rise and fall of the sun. They could remember counting each star in the dark, uninterrupted skies at night, feeling as if the entire universe was just within reach. There were no lights to dim the brilliance of the Milky Way, no engines roaring to drown out the sound of nature. Back then, silence was Kai’s only companion, save for the birds and the occasional turtle that would plod up the shore.

In New York, time felt relentless, always pulling them forward. There was no room for silence or the sound of waves, only the endless hum of people in motion. It struck Kai that the island’s isolation had offered a different kind of wealth—a wealth of time, space, and simplicity. They’d spent their days learning from nature, foraging, building, and exploring every rock, cave, and hidden tide pool. On the island, they didn’t just survive; they thrived, feeling part of the natural order in a way that city life couldn’t replace.

Yet, as much as they missed the island, Kai felt an undeniable thrill at living in a place where the world could change in an instant. Here, they’d met people from every corner of the globe, learned new skills, and even started a small business, which once felt unimaginable back on that small patch of sand and rock. But with all these people around, a strange paradox lingered: Kai often felt lonelier than they ever had alone on the island.

Opening their eyes, Kai looked out the window, watching the river of people streaming down the sidewalk. They knew they couldn’t go back—New York had become their home now. But sometimes, when the city’s noise became too loud, Kai would find a quiet rooftop, gaze up at the night sky, and try to see through the haze of city lights. In that moment, with a little luck, they might catch a star twinkling back at them, reminding them that, despite the skyscrapers, crowded streets, and endless noise, a part of the island would always live on in them.