Saturday, May 30, 2009

Swimming Underwater on a Single Breath of Air

The surf was fine, swells and babes abounded. Fun in the water was a board and a wave, but it was all precursor to the underwater city.

I could continue catching waves if I wanted, but the colors weren't appealing enough. There was a blue sky and white clouds, not enough to keep my interest.

So down I went. Like a torpedo, I cut through the water. Encapsulated buildings of red and green, archways of brown and gray. I swam past them with eyes wide.

For speed, I propped my feet against the old, antique walls. I bent my knees as much as possible. I curled myself into a little ball. And then, pushing off with all my might, I torpedoed through the watery avenues. Below were sidewalks, parking meters and lampposts. Through a courtyard and into a ballroom I went. High ceilings, intricate paint and gold lining surrounded me. So much better than flying. This was so much better than air.

Until I realize that I have been without air for many minutes. I have been holding my breath in this watery metropolis. Looking around, I am now in the middle of the ballroom. I am deep, and I cannot get to a surface for at least another two minutes. My underwater journey was too far. I should have only gone half of the distance. I should have saved some lung capacity for the swim back to shore.

So now I'm here, certain to drown. I am inclined to panic, but the ballroom is beautiful. I have no one to dance with, so I'll swim alone until the end.

Up to the top of the ballroom I float, swallowing sips of water through my nose. As close as I'll ever come to the surface. This ceiling is certainly the death of me, but it's loveliness softens my choke.

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