That Sinking Feeling

Hand in hand they walk the plank
the sight ahead is breathtaking.
The muted blues of the water
relax their focus,
the lazy ripples tease their curiosity
luring them in.
And for a while their minds melt.

She loosens her grip and says,
“I can’t swim.”

The sky smothers the horizon
the mist chills the hairs on his neck.

It’s all wrong.

The water below drifts
darker,
deeper,
black.

Her hand falls away
and the vastness of his destination
creeps closer.

He braces himself for the inevitable
but just as his body plunges numbly
into the frigid void

he whispers,
“Neither can I.”

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