bend and not break.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Elliot.

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Walking on fins.

She wanted feet. She wanted more collectibles. She wanted to be everything she wasn't.

She had a beautiful pair of fins. She already had a few of the most precious and rarest collectibles standing on her shelf. 

She wanted more. She wanted to be something she wasn't. 

She wanted to be human for once.

She wanted to be able to feel the ground. She wanted to be able to feel the sand. She wanted to be able to feel what's rough and smooth. She wanted to be able to feel what humans felt.

She wanted to be more than what she was.

She was meant to swim. She was meant to stay in the cold water. She was meant to cherish everything she had.

She had dreams. She wanted feet. She wanted beautiful feet.

She wanted to walk.

She positioned herself, poised and prepared. She let the tip of her fin touch the ground, imagining it as a left foot. She let the tip of her other fin touch the ground, imagining it as a right foot. She tried to walk. She began to take a tiny step. She was sure she was going to enjoy what she was about to accomplish. 

She moved a little at a time, excited by the small progressions. She tried to take a bigger step. She fell.

She was hurt.

M.