Bubbles.

Rising through the greenish depths, caught in the surface tension at the edge of the world, silver, a gathering together, a becoming, foam sparkling for glorious moments then disintegrating in a rush of minute droplets. More bubbles rising, more gathering, more bursting.

A memory of pain, of silence, breakdown and a sudden need to follow the stream of air upwards. Clawing through the film, fighting to escape, climbing from the water and gulping the life giving oxygen.

Clinging to the earth, resting, before stubbornly struggling upwards, reaching, writhing, limbs thrashing, filling out, muscles expanding, flesh drying in the hot air.

A riot of colours, the cool, dark depths forgotten, the brightness is everything.

Hunger now all consuming, cautiously tasting the air, joy increasing as confidence grows. Food surrounds, mind locks onto the capture of prey, nothing else matters.

A small girl runs in the long grass, pigtails flying before stopping to look. She glows as a rainbow, hot and impossibly beautiful; and shouts, a cacophony of vibrations, felt rather than heard.

‘Daddy, daddy, look at the beautiful dragonfly.’

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