The water is lapping gently at my face. So warm, even though I’m rocking in the ocean, the sun caressing my face. I can hear my breathing much louder under the water. I am breathing, that much is true.
I look out to the side and see rocky cliffs, some green trailing up them. The sky is nearly white, it’s so clear today.
I bob upright, treading water. The boat is a few arm-lengths away. I survey the crests of water as they synchronise themselves toward me. The water dripping off my face trickles down my nose and I blow through angled lips and spray it in front of me.
My lips lick at my beard, a primal reaction to savour. I blow through my nose into the water, trying to break the elastic substance that it is, all around me. Encapsulating me, never allowing another element through to me without force.
I look back through the grotto from whence I have swam. The white rock arches above the water, peaks as though it’s a clear rainbow.
I swim over to the side of the boat. I grab the steel ladder rail and remain bobbing in the water. The old fisherman looks down at me from the boat.. His belly sticks out over his swimmers. He’s clearly gone for his own swim waiting for me.
‘Bene?’ He peers at me curiously.
‘Si’ I grab the ladder again, ‘Si, molto bene, grazie’.
I launch my body up the steel ladder and find my spot in the boat. We ride the crests of the waves back to the harbour.
There is nothing else in my mind but for the air I am taking in. The sun is hot, the water is warm and I am at peace.
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