Walden Chronicles II

Within seconds, I am puffer fish cheeked. Frozen ice breath bubbles into watery waste. My right arm dangles useless. Appended only by bone, moves up and over without strength of pull. My thighs ache useless. Cold clutches them, scores the muscle under wetsuit skin. Yet I am swimming and there is something glorious in the knowing of it. The feel of wind swell. The slant green light of sun under water. Is it the shred of memory tide stirring?

I am lifted onto the water spine and carried as if I never left the heart of her. There is rhythm in me and for a moment I fly. Until muscle is skin waste.

The wind finds me. I watch the bathhouse ebb and flow. Slide along the beach.

I struggle. Bobbing. Nowhere in the timeless water.

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