The smell of the ocean filled my mind with memories of my childhood. The sun beat down on my bare back, an almost overwhelming warmth. The nearly cloudless sky was as bright and blue as the water splashing at my ankles, though probably not as cold.
It was refreshing, cool, gentle, and it dragged me in, step by step. Then I simply kept walking. Water rose up around me, as my steps became labored, my hips, my waist, my chest, my throat, my eyes, above my head. I felt my hair drift up and sway with the water's current.
I breathed in the ocean, and then I was part of it. As I inhaled, the pressure lifted, my ears popping, and I could see into the depth. My steps lightened and went with the water instead of against it, until my feet lifted and kicked back and then--
I had a tail. My legs were one, a massive, powerful fish, white and milky with jagged, bright orange stripes: koi.
With fins and gills and webbed fingers, I swam into the ocean. The gentle sun rested on my back through the water. Farther and farther I swam, powerful and new, and then I was the sea.
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Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
