When Water Subconsciously Felt Air Was The One

It was the day when toes curled up, breasts jiggled and penises vibrated to thrum of a summer day that seemed to hang on the precipice of a hedonistic paroxysm. Somewhere, somnolent kids dreamed of slurping mangoes, and lovers sucked fruit pulp off their partners’ bodies. It was a day when single people went on a picnic to drink themselves silly and ignore jerking pheromones.

It was on a day like this when Naina was floating that she saw Rob, rooted with an ether cloud hanging over his head. A piquant pulse of irritation later, she left him to find her way upstream, away from the gaggle of her friends, two of whom tadpole-like were squirming in the water with their crocodile eyes. Other more human, vodka glazed eyes were screening the sex potential of the moment while their ears turned sun-soaked red. Mundane mating calls picked beef through non-verbal fist fights and everyone grumpily thought what a bad idea it was to have traveled so far. Before them was only a bouldered backbone of a stream and small lines of water running deep through its craggy depths. Summer had stripped the stream of its charm and laid bare the truth of how the quiescent face of the water had in reality, violently, relentlessly fashioned its mute lover beneath.

Naina was beginning to feel too self-conscious to enjoy the others. A familiar restlessness was stirring; a discomfort and a shortness of breath that came while in the presence of unrecognized faces. She only knew two other people in the group, her friends having invited their other friends. Unsurprisingly, her shoulders were already stiffening, so on the pretext of examining her feet and a non-existent aquatic life, she slowly walked away until no voices were heard. She started withdrawing and tunelessly humming to soothe her into the journey within.

(to be continued...)