It is swimming towards me, straight down into the water. That's funny. I didn't know they did that. It reaches out to me with its arms and grabs my floating hand, pulling me towards it. Arms. Sharks do not have arms.
Maybe I will live. The person is pulling me towards the surface, but I have not taken a breath for a long time. I know that it is imperative that I do not breathe in- I just cannot for the life of me remember why. My lungs are on fire, and my skin feel like its being chilled with ice water. I can no longer keep my eyes open, try as I might.
A wave slaps me in the face, and my eyes pop open for a moment. There is an angel holding me, his wings are trailing behind us in the waist high water. I've never seen anything more radiant in my life, for all that they are stained and ripped beyond repair, and could not hold anything in flight.
"Wake up. Wake up. Please, please, for the love of God wake up." There is warm flesh pressed against mine, and I feel sunlight, real bright sunlight, on my eyelids. The voice is the most melodious thing I have ever heard, the skin the softest think I have ever felt. I want to tell that voice that I'm fine, I'm just tired, That I will wake up in a moment. I want to tell him not to worry. But I am too comfortable for these words to issue from my sore throat. Besides, I want to tell him, The love of God is probably not on my side.
There are lips on mine. Warm, wet, and tasting of salt. They are soft. I feel something akin to static electricity flowing form them to mine. It recharges my brain, and it certainly restarts my aching heart. My hands curl into crusty dry sand, and my feet begin to push against the earth. I lean into those lips on instinct, because it has been a long time since I felt anything so good. If I have ever felt anything so good.
I come to myself all At once. I suddenly know who I am, where I am, and what almost happened to me. I remeber floating under the surface of the ocean, sure I was about to die.
Maybe I will live. The person is pulling me towards the surface, but I have not taken a breath for a long time. I know that it is imperative that I do not breathe in- I just cannot for the life of me remember why. My lungs are on fire, and my skin feel like its being chilled with ice water. I can no longer keep my eyes open, try as I might.
A wave slaps me in the face, and my eyes pop open for a moment. There is an angel holding me, his wings are trailing behind us in the waist high water. I've never seen anything more radiant in my life, for all that they are stained and ripped beyond repair, and could not hold anything in flight.
"Wake up. Wake up. Please, please, for the love of God wake up." There is warm flesh pressed against mine, and I feel sunlight, real bright sunlight, on my eyelids. The voice is the most melodious thing I have ever heard, the skin the softest think I have ever felt. I want to tell that voice that I'm fine, I'm just tired, That I will wake up in a moment. I want to tell him not to worry. But I am too comfortable for these words to issue from my sore throat. Besides, I want to tell him, The love of God is probably not on my side.
There are lips on mine. Warm, wet, and tasting of salt. They are soft. I feel something akin to static electricity flowing form them to mine. It recharges my brain, and it certainly restarts my aching heart. My hands curl into crusty dry sand, and my feet begin to push against the earth. I lean into those lips on instinct, because it has been a long time since I felt anything so good. If I have ever felt anything so good.
I come to myself all At once. I suddenly know who I am, where I am, and what almost happened to me. I remeber floating under the surface of the ocean, sure I was about to die.
