Dipping into Prose

This piece of prose is based on an experience I had when I was much younger and fitter. At the time I was a very good athlete and was able to stay underwater for close to two minutes without any aids. Do not attempt similar feats without adequate training.

I crush my fear between thoughts of iced lemon-water and a red sun ready to trip over the horizon. Then drain the hesitation from my body, drawing deep breaths caught in harmonic resonance with the lazy summer waves.

I float, and reflect. My mortal nature is to be revered not resented. My fragility held with foetal grasp for it makes me strong. With one last intake of air, I flip the world over and dive.

The blue gets darker, tending to the black as I reach the tunnel mouth. Jagged walls call my name as they invite me to play.

I dive deeper.

A curtain of black covers my eyes, and the only sense I have left is that of conviction. I have to trust. Panic only burns the ether of life faster. My hands carve a path through the water. Kicking feet propel me forwards. I leave a trail of bubbles as I seek to relax my lungs.

I must be halfway.

I push on and deflect the realisation that I have reached the point of no return. Arms pull, legs kick, bubbles escape, mind focuses on emptiness, eyes strain to see, lungs start to burn. It cannot be far now.

It mustn’t be far now.

Me, the sea, the dark, we all have our secrets. Perhaps, I may become one of theirs sometime. But not yet. A faint smear of light stains the darkness, teases the bubbles into view. The jagged rocks still call but I will not play with them today.

I kick harder, hands reaching for the light. I pick up speed, exhale just before breaching the surface and inhale in celebration.

I am on the other side. A breath away. Still mortal, but somehow more alive than I have ever been before.