From underwater, the world was gray and brown, with flashes of something that was almost cyan. I held my breath as tightly as I could. I liked things better under here, quiet and muted and safe and sure.
They said that drowning was among the worst ways to die, but I wasn't buying it. I could think of a hundred ways to die that seemed more unpleasant including, but not limited to, dismemberment, being attacked by a bear, getting speared by a swordfish, and cholera. I began to feel a little dizzy, but it was essentially nice down here.
And sure, there were things I would miss out on because I was drowning here. But those were small and negligible, I supposed. There were a lot of bad things I would miss out on, too, so it could be worse. And maybe it took a level of insanity to take my own death with that level of rationality, but it was to my advantage.
A line of bubbles raced towards the surface.
Post a Comment