107. Turning Back
July 15, 2008
She dove down deeper into the ocean. Even though her lungs were already almost bursting, she wriggled her whole body to propel herself down even deeper. Then she went deeper still. The sea was black and impossibly cold. She came to a fissure in the sea’s floor.
Don’t go in, a voice told her. Or do, but first go up and get some air. Maybe it was the voice of her mother, still offering sensible advice even after her daughter was grown up. Maybe it was the voice of her lover, who she’d always assumed was telepathic but just keeping it from her, contacting her from the surface, anxiously waiting in some skiff or cruise liner, wringing his hands, finally choosing this moment to share his gift, regretting holding back for so long.
She decided not to listen. She swam to the opening in the seafloor. This wasn’t because of the witch’s advice, although it was compliant.
“Don’t look back,” the pretty witch had said, her topaz eyes and amber hair both blazing. “Just keep going forward, whether you find yourself on a mountain or under the sea. It’s the only way you’ll find your father. You do want to find him, don’t you?” Read the rest of this entry »
