I am in a small steel bathtub in a white tile room. Seven nurses in white uniforms sit and kneel around me, each washing a different body part. I notice a white door leading out of the bathroom and jump out of the bath. On the other side of the door is a large blue swimming pool surrounded by wet gray concrete and tall green and brown palm trees. The vibrant colors outside of the bathroom almost blind me, but I can see just enough to dive into the pool, where I sit on the bottom. Everything around me is blue, but at least the water dulls the colors.
From under the water, I can see eleven nurses in white uniforms standing around the swimming pool. They cannot swim, so none of them dare come after me. But they can breathe, so they have a clear advantage. I can hold my breath for a minute, maybe two. They can easily stand there all day. Or at least until their shift ends.
I look around the swimming pool for a vent, but they are all too small. Just before I am forced to the surface for air, I see a small white door on the floor of the blue pool. I know that I should stay away from white, especially when there are so many bright colors around, but that door is my only escape. Opening it is easy, but I can barely squeeze through. My head fits, and I can move and twist my shoulders in a dozen directions, but for the first time in my life, my breasts are simply too big. Fortunately, they are mostly fat and lobules. Unlike a boy I knew in high school, I realize that they are not rigid domes and can be moved and manipulated. One thing I do not know is if I can make it through in time. And even if I can, I do not know what might be on the other side. If it is more water, I will surely drown.
The only alternative to the door is coming to the surface and the nurses in white uniforms. I am slowly expelling air out of my mouth. Pretty soon, there will be none left and I will be forced to inhale the water. That is not the best option, so I force my way through the small white door.
I spill out onto a sandy beach with more than enough air to fill my lungs all the day long. I am soaking wet, but firmly planted on dry land. The beach sand sticks to every nook and cranny in my skin, but at least I am free from the nurses in white uniforms. Even if they could swim, none of them could fit through the small swimming pool door. Most of them have hips that far outweigh their breasts, and which are not nearly as malleable. Some of them are wider in the middle than up top.
Feeling safe and free, I take a walk along the sandy beach. I close my eyes to the wind and enjoy the goosebumps, especially after being cooped up with the nurses in white uniforms for so long. I am naked from top to tail, but the sand sticking to my wet skin forms a thin barrier against the wind. The sandy beach is completely deserted. What I am wearing matters not.
I turn around a corner of the sandy beach to see fifteen nurses in white uniforms waiting for me with soap and sponges. They have brought in reinforcements. Maybe I can outrun them, but maybe not. My only way out is the ocean. If they were too afraid of a swimming pool, they would never take to the sea. I wade into the waves as the nurses in white uniforms run frantically toward me. As expected, none of them go beyond getting their white shoes wet.
I swim out as far as I can, but I have my limits. The ocean is endless, and I could never reach the other side. Floating on my back, I see the nurses in white uniforms on the sandy beach getting into a wooden boat. I know I cannot outswim a wooden boat, but I can dive. Fortunately, they do not have a submarine.
I dive under the surface and wait. I can see the wooden boat floating above me. They must know where I am, but they cannot reach me without going into the water. Once again, they have the advantage of free flowing nitrogen and oxygen.
There is a brightly colored coral reef nearby, so I swim toward it. Maybe the shapes and colors of the coral will camouflage me from the wooden boat. As I swim to the reef, I can see the wooden boat above me. They know where I am going, but they do not know how to stop me.
At the brightly colored coral reef, I look for a place to hide. There are plenty of tiny caves and alcoves for fish, but nothing big enough for me. Swimming along, my foot gets caught in the reef. I cannot pull it out and I have no tools or heavy objects on me to break free. My strongest tools are my knees, but as flexible as I am, they cannot reach my foot. The more I pull on my foot, the more the brightly colored coral tears into my flesh. But even if I could tear all the skin and muscle away, I would still be stuck to the bone.
I grab a yellow fish with black stripes as it swims past. My intention is to use the yellow fish with black stripes as a hammer and break my shackles, but the yellow fish with black stripes stares at me with a sad look in his eyes. He knows that he will die if I slam him against the brightly colored coral. I do not want to kill him, but if I cannot break free, I will die. That is the law of the sea.
A moray eel jumps out from a tiny cave and startles me just enough to let go of the yellow fish with black stripes, who swims away faster than any wooden boat. The eel solved my moral dilemma, but pretty much doomed me. Using the eel as a hammer sounds like justice, but he is far too slippery to catch. With nothing to break the brightly colored coral and all but no air left in my lungs, I fight to hold my breath. I can feel the veins in my face flooding and throbbing. I pull at my foot as hard as I can, but all that does is cut me up even more. My bright red blood in the water might attract sharks, but they cannot make much of a difference at this point.
I am fighting to hold my breath with every inch of strength I have, but every centimeter of my body forces me to inhale. The metric system is simply too strong for imperial measurements. When I take in a deep breath of sea water, everything goes black.
No comments:
Post a Comment
No hate, please. There's enough of that in the world already.