Written in 2003 - recently unearthed from old papers
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I stare out at the ocean - at the waves as they crash against the rocks. Incessant, timeless, everyday, forever. I can taste the salt in the air, feel the burning sun hot upon me. I enjoy the wind in my hair, the feel of the fabric of my shirt as it flaps against my bare skin.
The foam curls around my toes - the tide rolls in. I know the water will soon rise and wet the bottom of my rolled up jeans, but I don't move. I stand there and let it rise -- from toes to ankles to calves to knees. I step back a few feet, and wonder what I will do when the water rises further. How will I react, will I step back again, or will I let it engulf me?
It's now at my hips, inching upward towards my waist. Each wave throws my balance a little. The salt water stings my eyes. I know I need to move away, but my feet are rooted in the sand and I am caught in some sort of inexplicable inertia. How long will I stay, I wonder. What will happen when the water reaches my chest, then my neck, then slowly fills my mouth?
Curiously enough, I seem to be enjoying the uncertainty of not knowing. I see the huge wave coming towards me. The water is now at my chest. I feel buoyant. The wave is inches away, and before I know it, it crashes into me and and I am in over my head. I am thrown by the force, swirling around in the foam, arms and legs flailing, water in my nose, eyes, and mouth. I straighten up, the water settles down around me - it’s at my chin. A few more inches, and I won’t be able to breathe. I raise my legs, throw my head back, and start to float. I laugh into the sun and wait for the next wave.
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I stare out at the ocean - at the waves as they crash against the rocks. Incessant, timeless, everyday, forever. I can taste the salt in the air, feel the burning sun hot upon me. I enjoy the wind in my hair, the feel of the fabric of my shirt as it flaps against my bare skin.
The foam curls around my toes - the tide rolls in. I know the water will soon rise and wet the bottom of my rolled up jeans, but I don't move. I stand there and let it rise -- from toes to ankles to calves to knees. I step back a few feet, and wonder what I will do when the water rises further. How will I react, will I step back again, or will I let it engulf me?
It's now at my hips, inching upward towards my waist. Each wave throws my balance a little. The salt water stings my eyes. I know I need to move away, but my feet are rooted in the sand and I am caught in some sort of inexplicable inertia. How long will I stay, I wonder. What will happen when the water reaches my chest, then my neck, then slowly fills my mouth?
Curiously enough, I seem to be enjoying the uncertainty of not knowing. I see the huge wave coming towards me. The water is now at my chest. I feel buoyant. The wave is inches away, and before I know it, it crashes into me and and I am in over my head. I am thrown by the force, swirling around in the foam, arms and legs flailing, water in my nose, eyes, and mouth. I straighten up, the water settles down around me - it’s at my chin. A few more inches, and I won’t be able to breathe. I raise my legs, throw my head back, and start to float. I laugh into the sun and wait for the next wave.
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