seahorses

when i was seven i sleepwalked into the sea. my dead grandfather waved and swam towards me and said that we were almost completely made out of water. transparent, he said.

i looked down at my body and saw nothing but sand and fish pass through me. specs of life came out of my body and then returned to it with the steady pulse of the ocean.
we both laughed as the waves rose, and white foam carried us to the shore.
i lay on the sand for hours, complete, jellying my body to the rhythm of gravity anew.

i walked home slowly, minding the seahorses in me.

comment

You are viewing the text version of this site.

To view the full version please install the Adobe Flash Player and ensure your web browser has JavaScript enabled.

Need help? check the requirements page.