Shhh, the waves had whispered.
Shhh.
They had blanketed her feet in warmth,
enticing her to move deeper into the warm water.
And she would follow.
Fish flitted in the tides
that swirled around her ankles.
The wind teased her hair.

The seabirds sang
and wheeled above her head
in the salty blue sky.
They dove into the water
again and again,
covering her in spray.
The droplets slipped
sweetly down her fingertips.
She smiled.

Uhhh, the waves moaned.
Uhhh.
They dragged…
at her feet…
fighting….
to asphyxiate her….
in their…
inky depths.
She resisted.
The fish floated upwards,
surrounding her ankles
in a scaly black ring.

The seabirds lay
swallowed by their plumage.
She tried to help them,
tried to wipe the
thick
black
foul
muck from the feathers.
It oozed through her fingers.
It pooled back into
the ruined bird.
The bird shuddered.
The bird died.
She couldn’t get the muck off her hands.

The wind whipped through her hair,
slapping her in the face.
She couldn’t get it off her hands.
She backed away from the waves.
It was on her ankles.
She couldn’t get it off her ankles.
She couldn’t get it off her hands.
A horn blared.
A slow-moving tanker retreated.
No one was coming to help-
she couldn’t get it off her hands.