Writing challenge: The Dream
I started from my nap the weird fuzzy feeling still wrapping my head in a fog. My skin was hot and I could feel the burn from the sun stinging me letting me know it would hurt even more later as time deadened it into a rust stained scar. Ideas floated in my head with a sort of Victorian romance. The ocean was vast in front me separated by twenty yards of pristine white sands.
Foamy waves dissolved inches from my feet before retreating again to the safety of the waters. If I stood, and took one step after another, if I let my body sink into the water, it would cool me. It would meet near flesh as the strings of my bikini cutting into the round cushions of my body’s curves left little covered from its reach. If I started to swim, the long armed strokes of a swimmer, not back and forth, but out and out, it would float me. The microcosms of life, minerals, beings, providing the buyoncy to keep me from succumbing.
If I stroked beyond the littoral, where the horizon was only a mermaid’s song, it would bob me in its unforgiving arches, bringing foes that did not like my intrusion. If I grew tired and could no longer strain against the currents pulling me in opposite directions, happy to release into the weightless cocoon, it would quiet me, my soul, and finally accept me back from where I came.