#0179. I stand next to the bank and wonder if I can survive the pull of the rushing water. I step a foot over the edge and totter. My heart races as my balance slips. I can imagine how the cold water will feel in my lungs. I think about this all the time. The deadliness of water. The monsters of the fathoms hold me back. The Sea is my fear made manifest. The River is my fear congealed and murderous.
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