The ocean was so tranquil today. I stepped into it and my feet were covered by glass. Cool glittering glass. The water was the clearest I have seen it. It enticed me deeper like a sweet mistress. I sought the place where the clearness ended, but did not find it. Instead I found a small fish swimming alone and coming to the end of the ocean. I was waist-deep and I followed him for many wading water-weighted steps. The fish was wandering gaily. He disappeared while waves pushed on us. The surface of the sea looked like liquid rippled glasswater. The flowing dirt floor that cradled it was checkered by light shafts and beams never bending but seemingly bent. I could see through the light of the water to the ground where dirt billowed upward and sank back down stolidly like a crumbling cloud. The dirt was mauled by my footsteps. And where my feet did not trod the floor lay still, line after line after infinite (ending somewhere) line. My steps were quite small and the dirt did not mind. The waves that came in were waves that did not break. They didn't topple. They didn't froth. They were the calmest waves I've ever been bashed with. These waves were like the kisses on a cold cheek. Like being tucked into a fiery bed with an icy blanket. Each placid lap stroked me coolly like it were the other side of the pillow.
I stood and was continuously drawn deeper and deeper, outer and outer, and as I stood I looked into the water and I could see/feel that drowning would nearly have been nothing. Nothing at all.
So then I sat down and felt overcome. The whole ocean was like one river and I was like a stone in the riverbed that was unworriedly and unhurriedly being transformed into liquid.
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There is no moral. Simply put, there was the sun, the fish and all my surroundings and water "and it stoned me."
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