Low tide licks my feet, as my toes vanish under the sand. The sun sets without saying goodbye. It always hurts more that way.
“It’s now or never,” says the sand.
Each wave draws the water further beyond me. A sinking feeling: ankles, and heart.
“Never,” I reply.
The sand acknowledges, embracing me.
Hours lapse. The night sky revolves around me, and I sink: waist, then chest, then chin.
A sea otter appears, its gentle eyes comforting, waiting.
“Once you’re free, come with me,” it says.
Relieved, I breathe one last time. To submerge is to surrender, and I have.