meholly avatar


you open your eyes about a foot under water and there’s rays of sunshine shining through that murky, green-brown water. The sunshine, like the trees, is fingers, only I imagine the mangled trees are trying to grab me and drag me down to the ghostly underwater town below, and the sunshine is angel fingers, trying to save me. I think about the graveyard, too, except in my mind, the bodies were never moved, and they dance with the seaweed and wave happily at the passing fish with their skeletal grins, sitting comfortably atop their tombstones in their underwater world.

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