I live at the bottom of the sea.
My eyes open every morning to blurry shades of dark blue and black. I wipe the sand from my face. I struggle to sit up against the weight of the ocean holding me down.
I feel the ice-cold water surrounding me, making my body ache.
My day moves in slow motion.
Seaweed tangles around my feet as I take small, wearisome steps across the ocean floor. The beautifully colored fish swim past but do not notice me through the darkness. Giant sharks lurk behind me, waiting for the right moment to attack. I keep my head down, avoiding eye contact with anything that may harm me.
I can no longer see anything but black, I am lost, but I continue moving forward step-by-step. I walk for what could be months, because there is no time under the sea.
I begin to see hints of blue.
But I am too tired. I stop and lay down in the rough sand. I close my eyes and drift in and out of sleep. When I wake I wipe the sand from my face, struggle to sit up, and feel my body ache from the cold. I search for the hints of blue I had seen to tell me which direction will take me to a lighter place. But any traces are long gone. So I choose a new direction and I begin walking again,
all in slow motion.