An hour of almost.

For an hour, I was lying on something that floated on water. I felt the gush of waves and the perfect not-so-hot rays of the sun on my face. I was alone, holding to the edges of the material, a reminder that I am safe and still am floating. I was in perfect sleep.

After that wonderful hour, I knew I was awake when I didn’t see light anymore. And I couldn’t breathe. And there was nothing to grip on. I knew I was drowning. There was no comfort. Only black. Only myself. And if I swam up, I knew I’d disturb the current of the waters, and it will fight me. Fight me til I drown a bit deeper. There was no help.

I am indeed awake. And I knew I was alive.

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