As my toes touched the water, the clear liquid split; making my entrance into something spectacular, something big. I closed my eyes momentarily in fear but as I became wholly submerged my eyes began to roam, soaking up the beauty found beneath the surface. I never could've imagined such stunning views moments ago as I stood atop of the cliff that facilitated my great dive. My eyes did not sting of salt, like they do at the beach; they felt comfortable, cleansed. The rocks around us still held the sound of my splash, until another splash overrode it. As I surfaced for air, he bobbed to the top, small waves from his jump subsiding slowly. His lips mirrored mine, our cheeks hoisting our mouths into gloriously large smiles, teeth shining. Our hair held no particular shape other than a damp mop. Not a sad old damp mop, a new one. A new, fresh, clean one. One that loved being a mop, one that loved being with a significant other mop, you know? The serenity of the scene never seemed to break, not as our lips interlocked, or as his hands pushed water my way, or even as we laughed loud enough to crumble the cliffs that sheltered us. Our beautiful bare bodies suited the still waters, our beautiful bare bodies suited each other. The thought of swimming towards the edge, the thought of getting out of the water, or peeling away from each other... it seemed unnecessary, too much of a burden. They say we must seize a moment, but this moment seized us.
*March2017
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
Historia CortaAlmost 200 short stories to get your blood pumping, your skin crawling and your mind racing. Nostalgic, interesting, current, real-life experiences in a creative form. *disclaimer: some of these short pieces reference issues such as mental illness...
