She says

He says, “How are you?”     

       
She thinks - I am the same as yesterday, the same as I will be tomorrow...

Yet it feels like I am a little girl, still in pigtails wading out into the sea; trying to find how far she can go with her toes still sinking in the sand below. Realizing too late that she’s gone too far out and there is no longer a sandbar to stand on. That she is no longer swimming into the waves for fun but that the undertow has grabbed a hold – pulling her further and further from where she wanted to go.

She can feel the dark waves pushing and pulling- roughly attempting to claim her tiny body for its' own- and she is struggling. Brine infiltrating- her small chest pulsing- hot on the verge of bursting from a lack of air.  She feels too insignificant to fight the vast expanse that is attempting to swallow her and she knows her body is tiring quickly from wrestling with the waves to stop breathing the burning salt. Every attempt to surface, she feels the next swelling swell suddenly crashing her under- She feels like the fish brought up to the light who discovers no beauty in the fisherman’s eyes. She is floundering, flailing against indifference.

She can see the jutting legs of a demolished pier, close by- swollen and barnacle rough but- possibly a way to fight?  The crests continue crashing, she reaches out- too far. She’s lost  against the slapping seas –

  She closes her eyes and starts to dream... maybe she is a mermaid, and she has found her place here under the sea…

All He can hear is  “Fine, and how are you?”