1012: black and white photo of the tines of a fork in a glass of water, on a granite countertop, in a spot of bright sun.




When I came up for air, it was as if there was no water. Only a sea of bubbles, waves of bubbles. I heard the sounds of the sea, the lapping of waves on a beach, gulls calling, the shadows of gulls coursing across the surface of bubbles. My mouth was dry. Was this a dream, was I dreaming of the sea? I walked for days, and found no end, found no water.