I have a telephone call to make: such a small task, but it takes so much longer these days. before calling I go over and over the questions I must ask- simple questions, a practical matter, nothing more. after the call, which was, of course, uneventful, I complete a few more chores, quietly, birdsong accompanying my progress. Suddenly, a tidal wave, and all the breath knocked out of me— lungs crushed I'm spinning can't breathe, my mouth is salt, nausea grabs my guts and pulls me down— no matter how I try to count, to regulate these gulping breaths I can't I'm underwater— my chest is a clenched fist but it can't fight an ocean, rushing in my ears so loud I am sinking I splutter, gasp, drowning in pure fear— I kick and struggle, I must stay afloat it will subside, I will not drown, I have survived this before. It feels interminable, it always does, but gradually the waves soften, shallows lapping at the sand. I am beached. I'm not going to drown, the salt is only tears. Still I sit shivering, helpless as flotsam, wishing someone would drag me out of reach of the ocean, past the high tide line to safety.
