Three More Strokes to the Stars

My toes wiggled this way and that until they found purchase on a sandy floor. My arms felt weightless, and I felt my hair tickle my cheeks in a slow, rhythmic caress. I felt unnaturally cool, yet warm enough to be strangely comfortable. I saw nothing, only darkness, and that concerned me. I realized then that my eyes were squeezed shut. I hesitated to open them, unwilling to break this tranquil state of being: not standing, not rising, not falling. Only floating.

I chanced a peek, parting my lids to a narrow slit. Deep, dark. And blue. Endless blue. The reality of my surroundings descended upon me at breakneck speed. Breathing. I wasn't breathing. Tiny pockets of air bubbled from my lips and I felt them slide up the sides of my face, disappearing in the absence of any and all light. Wait. I opened my eyes the rest of the way and peered down at my feet, toes digging themselves into the wet sand. How could I see my feet if there was no light? I glanced to my left, my right, and then above, with apprehension. A broad swath of light beamed into the abyss, reaching like an arm, as though to pluck me from the waters and deposit me back in my bed, where I lay down to sleep what seemed only moments ago. The light touched me, so that I was afforded a look at my pale hands as they swayed to and fro in slow motion. I felt the water push back as I waved my arms against it, and I respected its strength, knowing that it was what held me afloat in the glowing depths.

I still had not drawn a breath.

With a piercing panic, I opened my mouth in a silent scream, air rushing out as I feared the water would rush in to fill it. I tasted salt, and seaside things. Fishy. But no water came to choke me, nor did the oxygen that my body screamed it desperately needed. I simply floated, mouth agape with neither air nor water to close it, and I thought then that I might be in that place. The space between living and dying, waking and sleeping, where the air--or in this instance, water--was too heavy for the body to bear. The weight of that place pressed upon me and I began to embrace the not-breathing, as it felt so heavy that my chest could not rise against it. Tiny particles like fronds of a dandelion danced before my eyes, like spots on one's vision and it became clear then that I was immersed in the sea. Despite my watery station, I could smell the seaweed. I could feel the waves draw towards the shore and then back again in sync with the moon.

It was the moon that offered the light, and I remembered that I could see in front of me and that I no longer wanted to remain with my toes in the sand. I spread my arms about me as though offering an embrace to someone; the ocean answered my embrace by rocking me forwards so that I had no choice but to rise from the sandy banks of the ocean floor. Bubbles rose from beneath as I kicked out against the pressure of the tide, and I began to ascend. Something shimmered in my periphery. I turned to find the light bouncing off of the body of a creature, slowly gliding through the waters, its eyes sleepy and glazed. There was a distance between she and I, but the gap closed quickly despite her sluggish lumbering, because dreams are funny like that. I found myself nose to snout with this stunning beast, and I shyly reached a hand up to touch her face. A low rumble sounded from deep within as I stroked the leathery flesh and I could swear that her eyes shown at me in the limited light, as though she knew me. She blinked once, then twice, and then receded to swim away. I realized in that moment that she was dreaming too. She faded away into the shadows and I felt a trickle of sadness slide down my spine. I looked up again and felt the light pull me.

I began to beat my arms upwards and down, pushing against the tug of the sea floor. I kicked in small bursts, knowing that this couldn't last, that no one could hold their breath much longer, even if this was that place between living and dying, between sleeping and waking. The salty water no longer satisfied me; I longed for sweet, clean air and I eagerly began to kick harder, in broader, swifter sweeps, and put my arms to work. I stroked and stroked. I felt myself accelerate towards the light, where I knew that a fresh gulp of air would be waiting above the surface. I kicked and stroked. The expanse of light grew wider and brighter. I felt the sea move around me, pulling at me, gesturing to me, whispering to me secrets I couldn't understand while in between sleeping and waking, living and dying. I kicked again and again, bracing my strokes against the push and pull of the tide, and I began to smell the land waiting for me, a fragrant blast of greenery and night air.

I swam and swam. I counted my strokes and my heart fluttered anew when only three strokes remained. Two. One more.

I shattered the still surface of the water with a hungry gasp and thrashing arms. Euphoria pulsed through my body and I made the first sounds I had heard since my time in silence beneath the waves. I laughed. I scrubbed the salty water from eyes and blinked hard. The sky stretched above me in sweeping black, with sharp, blinking stars puncturing the darkness. I swam until I felt sand once again beneath my feet, and I began to advance towards the softly glowing beach. The sand glittered in the starlight and I was reminded of jewels and diamonds. I emerged from the water, dripping wet but not shivering, somehow warm in the light that bathed me. I collapsed with a contented sigh in the warm, soft sand, and lifted my face to the billions of stars. I knew that this would all fade quickly upon my waking, so I drank deeply of the images of the sandy beach, of the feel of the breeze brushing softly against my skin, and of the memory of the creature that swam graceful and wild in the deep.