Watery realism

I opened my eyes and saw I had been transported to a city made of water. A child appeared and gave me a coin. I looked all about me sidestepping and backtracking in circles, dizzy, straining my neck gawking at all the watery skyscrapers shimmering and wavering like the surface tension was going to break with the next wobble.

I grimaced in fear and thought I had heard the water break with an oceans roar but it was just a ringing in my ear. I ran anyway hidden under the shady canopy around the park and appeared upon a quieter lane. The houses were opaque and threatened to pull down at any moment into a gushing vortex spilling into the streets and mercilessly flinging the inhabitants out onto the street.

I looked around wondering if the next bus would make for a viable boat, wondering how life by the riverside would be in a flooded city. I reached for the coin, pulling it out in surprise. It was not circular but a shaped like a square with rounded edges, an old coin out of circulation em-bronzed with an extinct animal I could not name for it was never discovered. I dropped it and it broke into sand. I reached into my pocket to find it again. I raised it again and took a bite. It had no taste but smelt like sea shells. I thought of the dark and obscure waters of the Arabian sea, an old sight, as I looked at the pure and lifeless waters, probably boiled and purified, built up around me.

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