On a beautiful summer's afternoon, I was out for a walk by the sea. There was a light breeze and a subtle smell of salt. Just enough to make me crave barbecued sardines. It's moments like these when I knew the world was magnificent and all was right. The waves were calm but steady. And as if it were an inevitability, I dipped my right foot into the water. Yes, all was definitely right with the world. So I entered with both feet. Slowly, my body acclimated to the water. And further and further I went. Fully immersed, I began to float. Weightlessness and surrender hand in hand. The sky met the water and the water met me. And it seemed we were getting along fine but for the momentary distraction. A seagull flew by. Pointless I thought. My body began to teeter and my balance was lost. Weightless no longer, I searched for the sea floor but instead the sea floor found me. It found me like an old friend who you cannot remember; wanting to chat about times gone by. I tried to explain that I had to go, lying about a previous engagement for which I was running late. But the friend would not relinquish its hold. The sky met the water and the water met me.
