THE DROWNING
Oct 23
1 min read
By Heather Le Fay
I think I saw a drowning woman yesterday.
She was smiling when the waves lashed
her. Eyes wide but unreachable.
When the sun hit the water it glinted; a waiting scythe.
I watched from the boat’s lip as she disappeared.
The steely gunwale kissed my calves.
That vanishing woman–I think I knew her.
Heat washed my shoulders.
My grip loosened.
Ripples rippled below my feet.
There she was again, staring up at me.
Her small smile warped in the waves.