The Woman In the Water

I found myself walking through a dense jungle teeming with life. I only ever caught glimpses of movement through my peripherals. By the time I looked, it was still. But the sounds encompassing me assured life was everywhere. I continued walking; I didn’t know how long I had been walking, or where I was going. I just kept walking. At first there was fear.

Where am I. Why am I here. Where am I going.

Almost as in response to my inner monologue, I began to hear the sound of water. Quiet at first, then louder. The voice in my head went quiet. Through the leafy branches and winding vines, I saw a waterfall.


I scrambled down the mountain side, accompanied only by the bird songs and monkey chatter. As I approached the large basin formed at the bottom of the waterfall, I peered in, looking deep. It was blue, but not just any blue; it was the deepest, most beautiful blue I had ever seen. Kneeling down to drink, I caught a glimpse of a waving reflection. But the reflection was not of me. It was a woman I had never met, yet knew more sincerely then I knew myself. The reflection grabbed my cupped hands and pulled.


I sank. The water was gelid and panoptic. Despite the roaring waterfall overhead, everything was still. Anywhere I looked, I saw that deep, beautiful blue. Directly in front of me was the woman from the reflection. She was still, except her hair rising up as we sank deeper. I couldn’t break the eye contact, I didn’t want to. Into the deep, the light became dimmer until it fell dark.


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