I sat crouched, as the water kept on touching me. The familiarity with the water soon indulged this way that I couldn’t tell the difference between air and water. A shallow river had surrounded me, gravel and fish caressed while I gazed over the endless hopelessness. The bridge above me had carried massive stuck-ful traffic. I wondered what caused the drivers and the passengers to blow horns. What kind of optimism do they wake up with to brag into their work?
I had no clothes on. My skin shrugged, and my breast sagged. The smooth texture of femininity had left me. My eyes blinked slowly, while my mind didn’t play with the wheels of the past and future. Unfeasible in this satirical cycle I had gone quiet; no craving for the human actions, and simply no desire for achievement. Hunger was gone long, so no reason to move the muscles. Death wasn’t even frightening anymore.
Ugly, I embraced myself. At a very young age, I had lost my beauty. The femininity had curves and had softness. But my body had turned rough and my bones appeared clearly under my thin, grisly skin.
It was blank. I didn’t mourn. There was no sadness. Nothing to be found. I was a quiet body, who moved slowly. And sees everything just the way it is. No thinking. The gravel, grey; so it is gray stone. Clouds forming and moving slowly; white and shapeless.
The water and air that grazed against my skin did no effort for me to feel it.
The ugliness is what it is. No regrets and no Bliss. No Shame and no pride.
I sighed, letting a brief sir escaping me. And laid down on the shallow river bed. The water touched me entirely and my eyes still open, under the water and no pain or tingling conation arose. Water came over me, My body completely lost the contact with air. I needed to breathe, but I found no reason to rise. And i stayed there, still submerged in the water.
The man over the bridge on the driver’s seat of the truck found his sight landing on the river. He gazed upon a blonde, long-haired woman. The water splashing on her curves and her skin so smooth that his hand arose a desire to touch it. Her breasts were like a Greek goddess. And his desire to fondle them escalated. He could not move his sight from that motioned woman. The horns though blew but his erection stayed high.