Her back is arched, her feet trailing behind her, sliding across the smooth, slippery surface. Her long hair swishes in the fluid. She knows this because she can hear it. Because she can feel it draw intricate designs on her curved back. The sound of it is beautiful, like someone swirling their delicate fingers in transparent water. Her eyes relax and adjust to the darkness of the area and she slowly feels around with her long, nimble hands where she must go to next. She is like a blind man trying to comprehend the words set before him, written in those 3D dots. Her legs are wound together in a sort of sequined assortment. The sequins gleam as the light hits them through the clear surface above her, and a rainbowed reflection appears on the sandy floor.
She wants to feel the water rushing over her.
She wants to hear her hair drawing intricate designs on her back.
She wants to figure out where to go to next like a blind man discovering braille.
She wants to dream a thousand dreams.
She wants to laugh.
To breathe, discover, relish, enjoy it all.
Here.
Underwater.
She wants to be a mermaid.
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