Water, water everywhere
I am swimming. Confident, easy strokes across deep dark water. My right hand arcs through the air, sliding into the water with a small splash. It curves downward through the sea, and I feel it pushing me forward. My left arm follows into the water as my right exits. I could keep this rhythm going for days, and I feel like I've always been swimming like this.
It's mid-afternoon bright and comfortably warm for swimming. It seems to have been this bright for ever. The moment is timeless.
I am towing a small crate on a line connected to a harness around my waist. It bobs in the water behind me. I know what it contains, but that knowledge is irrelevant to me now. I just swim.
Ahead, I see a familiar face. He waits, treading water, as I approach.
"Hi." He nods a greeting, then inclines his head to look behind me. "You've got the box. Good route?"
"It's OK. It's long, but flat and easy."
He plays idly with one of the green stalks protruding from the crate. He takes one out and lays it on the water.
"If they all float like this why do we need the crate?"
I shrug and pass him the harness. He looks around, then fastens the harness around his waist.
"Next time then," he says, before turning away from me and swimming off.
I roll onto my back and float in under the featureless sky for a minute before idly kicking back the way I came.