We are here now.

0.06: Her.

I feel something collide against my feet.

On glancing down, a plastic model of a car. 

A pair of feet join kicks it away, it falls into the oasis with a slush.   

Hands in his pockets, he signals me to join the rest of them. I reassure him with a smile. He leaves.

I walk towards the edge where I saw her.

I don't know her, but I know I always have. 

Always, on the deck.

I take a seat, she does too.

A look at her, and I know her entire being.

Her eyes, nostalgic, behind the lens of her camera.

Smile, bitter, telling stories of shipwrecks and repair,

The rays of sunshine entangle in her hair

Falling on shoulders battered by life, yet so firm,

Carrying dreams larger than spirit,

Reality even tougher than life.

Her waters are shimmery, not as the Sun

But like the stars, against her dark eyes.

So far from my reach, and the world's

Nonetheless, crystal clear.

I've always had hope, but never seen it

Until now, as she appears to me

Real and whole, to be felt and believed in.

As the dusk sets in, with its violet hues,

Merging itself with the ocean's blue,

It outshines her colors

So all I can see is the real, pale truth.

Wisdom in its finest form

Flows from her tongue like an inaudible uproar.

And it sounds ethereal against 

The youthful valor of her features,

As calm as a pond.

I ask her, in a voice broken

Will I survive if I dive?

 And there it is, resting on her pleasant face. 

That same nostalgic smile.  

Just dive, she says, and you might.

Although I feel like I've known her for ages, I ask for her name.

Her name is beautiful.

Even more when I voice it.

But on a second utterance,

It drips with irony.

A distant voice echoes,

As if miles away from us,

Calling my name from across the ocean.

But there he is, next to me, as I bring my vision to focus.

He asks me with a chuckle, what's gotten to me.

Her...

I say, loud enough for the only person who needs to hear it.

Her.