Day 417

You can hear the sea and taste the bitter salt in the air.
The seagulls cry haunts your every waking moment.
You have always lived in a landlocked desert town and have never seen the sea.
Still you feel the waves lap around your waist as you wade to the post office.

The door seems rustier than normal and takes a great deal of effort to open.
As you do a great gust of air pushes you in and slams the door behind you.
This is not unusual, but while your gaze drifts about the place you see much that is.
For instance the cashier (Tim or James, you're never sure) has a blueish hue to his skin.

Your old school friend Mel literally drifts past you, feet gently brushing the floor yet
she remains immobile as she stares at a form to be sent abroad.
You try to talk to her but all that comes out of your mouth are small bubbles of water.
They float up to the ceiling that glistens wetly, pale green patterns rippling across it.

Walking gets harder and harder as you move further in, like the air is getting thicker.
The seagull cries get louder and you are approached by your neighbour.
His words are water bubbles that lazily move upwards.
He doesn't seem to notice yet his face shines with water, the ripples covering him.

You smile awkwardly and indicate moving away from him to a further aisle.
He jumps slightly and glides away from you as if it were a totally normal occurrence.
The air in the store begins to turn a shade of bluey-green as you walk further in.
Someone bumps into you when you turn into a random aisle and you are sent floating away.