Shipwrecked

It is a wall of honeyed trees; the aerial view, density personified, engulfing and pushing the girl simultaneously. Her body is pulled inward by the smell of it, something akin to seaside, and hay in mid-day heat. Its branches a delicate coral, an entanglement of water removed from the primal habitat climbing walls instead of creeping sand, and she wants to swim through it, lie in it like a simpleton as if she belonged there, pretending for moments that she is a daughter of the ocean. Aleathia Drehmer 2008 Published by Haggard & Halloo 4/08