There’s salt water in your mouth, the blood in the veins of the earth. You want to scream and signal for help, then think about how easy it would be just to sink.

How many people have seen a watery fate? Plenty of drunk sailors or unprepared beach goers you presume. Water is fickle, life giving and life taking.

Your legs work overtime to keep your head above the waves, white tipped and sharp like a steel blade. You see the shore, but it appears farther from you with every twitch of your feet.

Is it just instinct keeping you going at this moment? Why can’t the brain override the body? It seems in pain or distress, your brain just numbs out. But you need clarity, maybe a savior (though until this point that hasn’t really been your style.)

In a move of surrender, you position yourself face up to the stars and float.