I can’t hear. Well… not very well. Sounds distort and surround me, hit me from all sides. It’s all wrong.

I turn full circle to find out where, but I can’t see properly, no peripherals. Nothing. Though the landscape is lush with plants; colour is dulled. Red disappears.

Then there’s the animals, communicating no doubt, by each emitting their own musk. It is wasted on me. Scent is mute. No fragrance, odour, stench. Nada.

And no taste. Mouth only concerned with one thing. Breathing. Guess that’s kind of important.

Only one sense left… Will it stay? As evidence that my body is still mine? That something that makes me human still resides? But no, even touch is different in this place. The pressure, the temperature, the gloves. I cannot feel.

My body is not mine here, there is no gravity, no senses, of distance, of which way is up, of my usual vices. Of humanity.

But it is beautiful here, and there is so much more to gain. I give up my body willingly.

Bubbles, travel ever upwards, the only evidence that underwater, I might still be human.

(Pic – Diver bubble trail, Solomon Islands)