The wind tickles my face. The waves seem to wash right through me, before colliding with the harbour rocks below. Thoughts swirl in circular motion, peppered with the pulse of my mantra which drives the moment deeper. My dangling feet are numb, only the pressure from the weight of my legs over the smooth edge of the wall alerts my lower body. Shallow breaths and dead skyward palms betray the brief moments of quiet – when the inner chatter fades and I’m no longer distracted by mindless thoughts. The beach goers are gone; the fishermen melt into the Spanish heat and I’m slipping through my skin to go and dance with the wind. Let me float. Let me drift around the bay on a breeze, rising to meet the sun – collapsing into the sea. Sweep me around your gentle vortex and see how I sync. I’m sinking…
Alice Hodgson 