Looking Glass: an Anthology (bi-weekly updates)

Daughter of the Ocean

"I am very much real."

That voice again.

Haunting,

yet intriguing.

I demand that it show its face.

"My face matters not." the voice declares.

"Turn back, child.

To the ocean.

See its beauty,

is it not beautiful?"

A feather-light touch brushes across my collarbone,

so light I believe I've imagined it.

But I do not dwell on it.

The ocean.

I must look back to the ocean.

"Yes.", I whisper.

My own voice sounds otherworldly.

"The ocean truly is beautiful.

So much so that...

that I would happily drown in it."

"Is that so?

Do you wish to meet the ocean, child?

Do you wish to be closer?"

"Closer?", I ask.

"Closer.", the voice affirms.

"Closer.", I repeat with conviction.

"Then you need only to step up, child", the voice clarifies soothingly.

"Step up onto the ledge.

Then you will be closer to the ocean.

Is that not what you want?"

The ledge?

A strange kind of electricity ignites my body,

from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers.

Almost as if it were a warning.

There is something about this ledge,

something forbidden.

But for the life of me,

I cannot comprehend what it might be.

The voice senses my hesitance.

Another feather-light touch brushes against my body,

this time travelling up the length of my spine.

The ledge.

I must step onto the ledge.

I must be closer to the ocean.