I walked over the endless stones and sand on the edge of the water barefoot.
My shoes in my bag resting at the back of my right hip, my camera slinged hastily over my shoulder, bouncing against my ribs.
I stared out at the large expanse that seemed completely unending.
You jumped onto the stone wall and looked off into the waves breaking.
"It's so smooth." You offered into the air.
My eyes find a palm sized, perfectly rounded stone underneath the fallen tree trunk, bending over, closing my fingers around it. I turned offering it to you.
"Like a stone." I replied, because it somehow connected.
You nodded accepting it, turning it over in your hand, rubbing it slowly with your thumb.
I lost your eyes in the waves again.
I traced your sight to a glowing object underneath the formations of waves.
"It's like a double sun." I heard your detached voice announce.
Startled, I turned around, "What?"
"Shining, around each other like the double sun." You continue, as if it was common knowledge.
I stare back at the glowing orbs.
The waves carry in seaweed arms to hide the soft glowing from sight.
There's a large ship on the face of the body of water growing closer.
I glance at you but you're on your feet before I can register a question.
I follow you swiftly down the shore to the edge near some sort of pipe.
There's some muttering concerning shutting something off, the pipe, I assume.
Your hands work quickly pulling the knob, shutting it, faster and faster.
There was yelling, from the boat that seemed too close for the distance we put between it and ourselves not too long ago.
That's when it happened, when you lost your footing and something spurted in a clang of metal and black, thick, dirt tasting liquid. Oil.
All over my face, my skin, but my bag and camera were safe near the wall.
I dived in without thinking, hearing your protest before water filled my ear with a thunderous roar.
Somehow I got it off.
Somehow we were pounding the sand under our feet, sweeping up my bag and camera, turning up a grass covered path and onto hard concrete, suddenly.
I falter to a stop and shove my camera around my neck, securing it to not fall off.
Pushing my toes off from the hard road and speeding up to your back, watching it flex with every stride you make.
I can't tell if I'm breathing, I must be, because my voice falls out my throat slamming words into the air, glancing over my shoulder as our wet footsteps trail our path and the boat is barely visible through the thick trees.
It startles me, making me inhale too sharply.
Eventually it disappears amongst the green shaded leaves, and a house rises on a green hill.
A plump woman sits on the outside watching us speed up the hill onto the porch, she brings us inside, sitting us at a kitchen counter.
I drop my bag under the seat, resting my camera on the counter after unhooking it from my neck.
I catch my breath and she goes on like we were there all along.
It's unknown but completely familiar.
She asks me something and you answer quickly, watching me put my head in my hand.
Then I hear you saying you thought I would have drowned when we saw that boat.
She laughs, loudly, filling the room with warmth.
She leaves, after putting a pie on the cooling rack with the other food. She's calling to the younger ones, and someone else.
I shoot you a look and comment on who lost their footing first, really.
You say something as I watch your eyes flicker.
You pick at a sandwich, swallowing bites without missing a beat.
You stop, aiming a smile at me. "Well, what would you know of water?"
I can feel my blood boiling with pride.
I am the sea.
I sit up staring straight at you, "I was born in the ocean." I say, smirking.
That smile spreads over your face.
I watch it fondly.
"Of course."
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