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npc-excolo.livejournal.com) wrote in
estdeus_innobis2011-03-13 04:03 pm
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Dream.
There is a great sea. The sky is grey, the water green, and the seafoam is the flecked white of milk on the turn. The shore is stone and shingle, and the cliffs are bone-shades. Will you wake on the little fishing boat that rides the waves, wary of great beasts that lurk beneath the surface, or on the cold and stony shore? Or perhaps as some watery thing yourself, breathing in water as cold as ice and with a salt-iron taste like blood?
[OPEN TO ALL]
There is a great sea. The sky is grey, the water green, and the seafoam is the flecked white of milk on the turn. The shore is stone and shingle, and the cliffs are bone-shades. Will you wake on the little fishing boat that rides the waves, wary of great beasts that lurk beneath the surface, or on the cold and stony shore? Or perhaps as some watery thing yourself, breathing in water as cold as ice and with a salt-iron taste like blood?
[OPEN TO ALL]
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The thing that could swallow me whole, that I can’t even open my eyes to see, moves on. I fight my way towards what feels like up, and my head breaks the surface at last. I raise one hand to clear my eyes, trying to get a look around me as they sting. There are cliffs in the distance. This is not the open sea, thank God. And I do know how to swim.
When my arms feel like they cannot possibly keep moving for one more stroke, the beach is there, all small, sharp stones. I lie gasping on them, the wind around me pulling at my clothes. It’s cold, but it’s not water. I push myself up to my knees, then my feet, which are bare, of course, my boots kicked off in the water long ago.
There are people in the distance, I can see. Here, someone must be better than no one. I push my hair out of my eyes and begin picking my way toward them.
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I follow the boats down to the sea. It feels different, tastes different. I struggle to follow the boats. There is only one now. I move closer to it realizing that I am swimming now, like I did in the River with Karina. I can feel my arms and legs but also the water. It is as if I am more water than flesh. That my shape is only that. A shape to contain me because my water is not the same as the sea for all that it too flows in me. Through me.
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I am salt, brittle, purifying.
I am water, protean, cleansing.
I am a sea, tempestuous, life-giving.
I am a fish, cold-eyed, wisdom-granting.
I am a serpent, sharp toothed, wise.
(I am really a witch)
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Wait.. I'm floating down! She's not here! I hope she doesn't catch me.
The rocks are cold but the water is colder and it fizzes! Jumping up and down in it makes it warmer though. No more yelling when it touches my feet. The wind hits my face and I can smell ... Daddy?!
"Daddy!" I laugh and yell, running in the not too high water, spinning like Mommy does so he knows I'm ok.
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