by John Xero
She drifts on a sea of sorrow. Her stomach clenches with each swell, her lips taste of saltwater.
With reticence, she wipes her face on the sleeve of her shirt. An act that breaks her on the reefs of reality, when all she wants is to drown.
She chokes back a moan. All she wants is to sink down, down, but her grief is like carrion in the water. The sharks sense it from miles away and they slink closer. They slip through the water to offer false comfort, smiles full of teeth as they take chunks from her soul.