flexibility

"You know you really should do some stretching before you swim."

She turned around and saw this young guy talking to her. Blond curly hair, freakishly white teeth, and a dazzling smile. He probably worked as a lifeguard in this private beach.

"But I am not going to swim. I will just bathe." She answered, slightly annoyed by the perfection this young man represented: health, youthfulness, and possibly posh upbringing. He might work as a lifeguard, but seriously, what did he know about life at all?

"I am sorry. But rules are rules. No room for flexibility." insisted the young man. He probably never violated a single rule in this 25-years-of-life, thought she, though still formed a pliant smile, "Alright then. Stretching it is."

She was willing to do anything to drive the nuisance away. After all, she did not come all the way to this fancy private beach just to be bugged.

She started undressing herself. It was a chilly autumn afternoon and she was somehow overdressed. Beanie, scarf, cardigan, her tunic, after a minute she was only left with her flowy petticoat. Her bony arms were exposed to the cold air. She flinched and started stretching.

The blond lifeguard, satisfied to see his demand met, walked away towards the direction of the bar.

She ceased stretching and walked into the sea. The water was freezing. She gradually lost her perception of temperature. Extreme heat or extreme coldness, it did not really matter to her.

She kept on walking and walking. The water level had come up and reached the brim of her nose. Oblivious to the impending discomfort, she closed her eyes.

She did not intend to swim. As a matter of fact, she never really learned how to swim.

She opened up her arms and embraced the water. It was a serene Thursday afternoon. The sea was silent. No waves at all.

Till human voice wakes us 
And we drown.


**
indebted to:

Kate Chopin, The Awakening
T. S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock