A seaside vacation: dreaming, drifting, bronzing. Late mornings, later nights.
Day one: blue water.
Day two: bluer skies.
On day three you tell me about the diving pontoon you have seen in the bay. Sounds fun, I say, come on then.
The sandbar stretches on forever, makes swimming impossible, makes the water thigh-deep and difficult. I tire quickly. You forge ahead.
When you are far enough I step up and walk upon the waves, following you. So much easier than wading. And as you glance back, I drop down into the water before you see me as I truly am.
Author bio: Suzanne Verrall lives in Adelaide, South Australia. Her flash fiction, essays and poetry appear in Flash Frontier, Flash Fiction Magazine, Archer Magazine, Lip Magazine, Poetry NZ Yearbook and The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts.
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