It was dusk. The air was heavy--almost steamy. Off in the distance someone was having a wood fire, and the friendly smell waltzed my way. I floated, staring up at the fading blue sky. My ears filled with the sound of my own breath moving in and out, and if it was not for the fact that I was still alive and well, I could swear it was the first breath I took all day. The water held me so I could let go. I drifted—detached and free—like a water-lily.
