Horizon

I was standing on the shore looking out at the horizon. There, somewhere, off in the distance, the edge of the world, the edge. There was no sand, only rocks, and they stretched out and back and to either side as far as I could see. But I couldn't see. I couldn't see a thing. But I could hear, and I could feel, the breeze from the water before me. A gentle breeze, cool, yet somehow warm. Salty. Persistent. And the soft whisper blew across my face.

Whooooo... Whooooo... Whooooo...

 But the breeze was drenched with saltwater, it dried out my skin and parched my tongue. My mouth was cracked and coarse, rough and painful, and as I tried to swallow I found I couldn't.

Whooooo... Whooooo... Whooooo...

For a moment the breeze stopped, the dryness subsided. I could feel the saliva coming through my cheeks and tongue. But still I could not swallow. The saliva began to build up in my mouth, unstoppably it built up in my mouth, this growing pool of spit. And then it vanished. In an instant. The breeze returned and it vanished.

Whooooo... Whooooo... Whooooo...

I grabbed my through, bit the sides of my tongue, tried to save myself from the complete and utter drought. Nothing worked. The breeze disappeared again. My mouth filled up with spit. I tried to spew it out, I tried to empty it all onto the rocks, but the more I spat the more it poured. The harder I tried the more it overwhelmed me and I began to choke. I grabbed my throat again as if to loosen it, to try and usher the liquid down into my stomach where I could rid myself of it, but nothing worked. I choked, I was choking, I'm choking to death and scratching my tongue and I wake up. Startled. Eerily calm. Lying on my bed and my eyes are wide open and I'm staring up at the ceiling. But there's a girl. I'm staring at a little girl. A little girl is standing over me, right over my head, looking at me but not in my eyes. She's staring at my mouth. I'm paralyzed; fear, sleep, something, perhaps I thought I was still dreaming. The girl stands there, watching. It's dark, I cannot make out her features, I cannot make out much of anything. But suddenly I can see something, something, suspended, dangling, and I realize it's coming from her mouth. It glistens and it grows, it grows slowly, and it grows longer, and longer, closer and closer it comes and grows to me. Until, finally, it rests on my tongue. Wet. And it comes, more and more, slowly and methodically it spirals itself on my tongue and coats my mouth and then it stops. It slides down my throat, I'm too scared to move, I'm too scared to close my mouth or swallow or help myself. The girl leans in, keeping her gaze. She bends down closer, closer, closer to my mouth, opening hers just slightly, and for a moment I think she's about to kiss me. But then, slowly, softly, she begins to blow. Cool. Warm.

Whooooo... Whooooo... Whooooo...