Island Children Dreaming of Spacetime Curvature

He falls through clouds. They are grey and crack at the seams with tongues of lightning. The most basic fact: two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen is not more basic than the thoughts drifting through his mind. Darkness ascends and descends, gravity slides the space somewhere relative. He wonders if anything is real. The call of gravity makes sense then, and he falls. The chain on his neck is gracious like flapping angel robe. The sun’s photons travel millions of miles from the core of the sun, through space, and then like little kamikaze warriors, break the gentle skin of the Earth, and flood through the water, to rest on his eyes. This exhausts him, and he casts his head back deeper into the abyss, as if exposing his throat to be slit by reality. Bubbles of air encase him as he spirals almost into a twirling motion – if only the water hadn’t been heavy.
Then he is standing. The island is behind him. It is day. He sees that there is bright and warmth, so he blocks his eyes. There is Another standing in the sea. Is The Other walking on water? He is more affected by the light, and only hesitantly peeks forward from the corner of his shielding arm. The Other is knee-deep in clear, pristine water. The ocean’s green light makes no contrast with the sky.

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