from the cement rim of a lighthouse, gazing upon an opaque canvas calling me home, her voice an incredible siren; her love and her sound so immense and unyielding, it could break through the vast desert of oceans, rip through the hull of a ship and unthread the sails of any vessel that attempted to mute her. I imagined her coming closer, her speech leading me, guiding me to land and sanctuary, or to collide upon the irregular debris of desolated cliffs. I begged for the sun to rise, and for its first fingers of light to tear through the dark fabric of ambivalence which tightened against my body.
It sounded like extinction; a series of loud impacts leading to entropy and decay. It was mortality. I had no other way to describe what scattered through the density of the atmosphere and the trees. It was something that I had never heard before, that sound. If I hadnât been there, I would have never been able to clearly tell what it was. It was piercing, powerful and enduring.
In the distance ahead of me, a vehicle travelled around the sharp, oncoming curve, the pale, raspberry fog from the flares spinning and trailing off into oblivion. The car sped past, the driver must not have seen me. Then, there was that sound behind me. I turned and ran towards it. In the moments after the car had sped past me, the vehicle had swerved onto the shoulder of the road to avoid the wreckage of the accident and at speed had crashed through the guardrail, sailed past the overturned car that still rested motionless in the mud and landed hard in the river.
The currents at that time of year were fast and the chances of the driver and any possible passengers surviving were minimal, especially if the windshield of the automobile had been compromised. No one knew how many people were in the vehicle. By the time I arrived, the car had been submerged for almost four minutes. There was no time to lose.
I hadnât latched the trunk of my car so I was able to slide quickly into a wetsuit and secure a compressed-air tank over my shoulders. I was struggling to catch my breath in the cold, early morning air. The air was so sharp that it hurt my chest just to inhale, as it tore through my lungs like they were tissue paper. In a dream-life state, I ran towards the submerged car and watched the water break suddenly around my feet and begin to pull back around my ankles. Soon, I was knee-deep in the frigid waters and watched the distant landscape of the high-rises disappear from my line of sight.
Water could teach you how to be patient if you let it.
There were three construction sites facing the waterfront. The steel frames looked like broken, temporary images of a childâs imagination, set upon a discolored background. The fog in the atmosphere appeared to be sleeping on the unstable mattress of the water, sitting comfortably in the snapping pockets and concurring ripples. I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then placed the regulator between my lips. I clenched my teeth like a boxer before the opening bell of a fight. Although the metallic taste of the apparatus was as bitter as always, its familiarity was still quietly comforting.
I penetrated the infinite colorlessness and descended, twisting the end of my flashlight. However I couldnât see anything. I was already feeling tired. The river was some 30 feet deep. After a few minutes I reached the automobile which had rested on the bottom against the passenger side. I maneuvered into a better position and looked through the glass. I pulled on the handle of the driverâs side door to no avail. The pressure hadnât caused any of the windows to crack, but there was some water slowly pouring into the vehicle. Air bubbles were escaping from the car. I didnât have much time and I would have to flood the remainder of the compartment, in order to retrieve the bodies. There was no one moving inside.
I unsnapped a button on the belt around my waist and grabbed the end of
It sounded like extinction; a series of loud impacts leading to entropy and decay. It was mortality. I had no other way to describe what scattered through the density of the atmosphere and the trees. It was something that I had never heard before, that sound. If I hadnât been there, I would have never been able to clearly tell what it was. It was piercing, powerful and enduring.
In the distance ahead of me, a vehicle travelled around the sharp, oncoming curve, the pale, raspberry fog from the flares spinning and trailing off into oblivion. The car sped past, the driver must not have seen me. Then, there was that sound behind me. I turned and ran towards it. In the moments after the car had sped past me, the vehicle had swerved onto the shoulder of the road to avoid the wreckage of the accident and at speed had crashed through the guardrail, sailed past the overturned car that still rested motionless in the mud and landed hard in the river.
The currents at that time of year were fast and the chances of the driver and any possible passengers surviving were minimal, especially if the windshield of the automobile had been compromised. No one knew how many people were in the vehicle. By the time I arrived, the car had been submerged for almost four minutes. There was no time to lose.
I hadnât latched the trunk of my car so I was able to slide quickly into a wetsuit and secure a compressed-air tank over my shoulders. I was struggling to catch my breath in the cold, early morning air. The air was so sharp that it hurt my chest just to inhale, as it tore through my lungs like they were tissue paper. In a dream-life state, I ran towards the submerged car and watched the water break suddenly around my feet and begin to pull back around my ankles. Soon, I was knee-deep in the frigid waters and watched the distant landscape of the high-rises disappear from my line of sight.
Water could teach you how to be patient if you let it.
There were three construction sites facing the waterfront. The steel frames looked like broken, temporary images of a childâs imagination, set upon a discolored background. The fog in the atmosphere appeared to be sleeping on the unstable mattress of the water, sitting comfortably in the snapping pockets and concurring ripples. I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then placed the regulator between my lips. I clenched my teeth like a boxer before the opening bell of a fight. Although the metallic taste of the apparatus was as bitter as always, its familiarity was still quietly comforting.
I penetrated the infinite colorlessness and descended, twisting the end of my flashlight. However I couldnât see anything. I was already feeling tired. The river was some 30 feet deep. After a few minutes I reached the automobile which had rested on the bottom against the passenger side. I maneuvered into a better position and looked through the glass. I pulled on the handle of the driverâs side door to no avail. The pressure hadnât caused any of the windows to crack, but there was some water slowly pouring into the vehicle. Air bubbles were escaping from the car. I didnât have much time and I would have to flood the remainder of the compartment, in order to retrieve the bodies. There was no one moving inside.
I unsnapped a button on the belt around my waist and grabbed the end of
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