she thought she would have swam today, but instead, realized eight hours
and fourteen minutes had passed and the dawn that had once looked so promising
had silently turned to dusk. she told herself to take a breath.
the city holds promise,
she told herself,
and the night, a mask for me to stand alongside the others.
the others- there were many. millions, like little ants, scurrying to get from place to place. exchanging tales and thoughts and bodies, marching to reach the top of the hill. trying to avoid a quick death, they were, and hoping to see the morning after a reckless night.
but she never felt like the others, no. she was different. and although at times she felt the need to blend in, she was content in her ways. it brought her comfort.
she thought like that, in metaphors: animals, countries, people and objects-- connecting one thing to another. making sense of reality in any way possible.
without closing her eyes, she saw it. the ocean looked beautiful in this light, the reflection of the lowering sun made the water appear darker than its natural hue. black, almost.
she was about to miss the sun.
she was about to miss the sun.
without a thought, she unbuttoned her shirt, shed her jeans, and, willing her legs to bend, propelled upwards and forwards towards the black sea. the smell of the tide was pungent, and she felt the temperature drop as the winds grew stronger the closer she flew towards the water. feet accelerating, the sand blew upwards, burning her arms, flying into her mouth.
i must beat the sun.
i must beat the sun.
crash, a four foot wave, smack against her body. pins and needles: the cold water against her entire body.
and then, calm.
treading water, as baby waves so small the water looked almost like a sheet of glass, the sun inched lower. the water lapped against her lips. she took a breath, and began to lower herself into the sea.
the sun appeared to rise.
and then, stars.
the sun appeared to rise.
and then, stars.
back in her apartment, her eyelids slowly fluttered, dropping, nearly, into the possibility of sleep. it was night now, and the room once full of pink light was suddenly pitch black.
without a thought, her muscles contracted, and she was suddenly standing. so instead of falling into a restless sleep, her legs moved, arms grabbed her keys and bag, and she inched towards the door.
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