whiteelephant
I thought, this is it. This is the day I die. The water surrounds my head, closes over my mouth, filling my ears and nose with hatred. I want to die. I want this to be over.
But I am pulled from the water.
The plane stutters. The engines stop. The thin metal tube plummets down, down, down. A tremendous splash. Silence.
It is dark gold. Shattered angels live here, stirring up the ash and dust of lives-once-lived. People come here to forget, but instead they create more memories to forget.