For Sacha Black’s writing prompt to write a short story of less than 200 words set underwater.
So bright, like diamonds, this thick air is alive, and I wonder what ever happened to you. It could have been good; you shouldn’t have given up. I missed you, always. Walking through the pinewood, light falling slantwise and the shrill of cicadas, your arm around me, your breath in my hair, hot and scented like the pines, needles crunching under foot, and the heat, like a presence. Old stones there were and piazzas with churches and fountains, and a silence of calm rather than inactivity. If only I could go back to that moment when everything went black and thick as treacle. If only.
Diamonds. I try to catch them but they slip like quicksilver between my fingers. I call. Call out to you. But my voice is lost in a bubbling vortex. Where did you go, all those years ago, when the dark fell? I’ve been wading in treacle ever since. Something fills my throat, choking. Is it tears or diamonds? I reach back to the dark, embrace it; hope that this time, I will know the right words. Hand, held out, pushing against the dark. My mouth, my head fill with dark diamonds.