The Story of My Life
© by Susan Fila
I think about the people I love,
In my eyes they walk on water. But I cannot and never wanted to walk with them. So while they are moving swiftly, smoothly and surely along the tops of the waves, I'm swimming far behind them, muscle-sore and panting, striving to catch them. My stroke begins to improve, the cramps to ease, the gap between us to lessen. And then I glance into the ocean's depths and, without thought or warning, dive; plunging, swimming hard for the bottom; I want to see first-hand the fish that are all teeth and jaws and phosphorescent eyes. On the bottom I look up from surrounding blackness. The glowing, toothy fish provide no illumination. I notice the beams of light filtering down through the water's surface and it occurs to me: That is where I'm supposed to be, in the light and air. I thrash, trying to reach the surface, but halfway there am stopped dead by a shark chewing on my foot. Up, the light promises air and healing; down, the darkness pulls and seduces
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