Theory of Relativity

She is all of a sudden under the water, her feet trying to touch the sea floor. She should not have gone too far. Could he see her arms flailing helplessly above the water?

She thinks of how long it may take him to save her before the sea murders her, how long she could hold her breath and stay afloat. Then she feels an arm wrap itself around her waist: familiar, muscled arms.

She would regain consciousness minutes later, would thank him. He would look sorry, painfully sad, with a tinge of guilt she would not understand until years later when they are married already.

They would be on top of a mountain cliff, after a day's climb. She would notice how the clear blue sky looked like the sea, how it looks like it is about to pour over everything, anyone.

He would be reaching for a wild flower at the rocky lip of the cliff when he would fall over.

She would be able to pull him over safely, but when she would look at his eyes as she asks him if he's okay, she would finally understand the honest guilt etched on his face now.

For at that crucial instant between the moment he would lose his balance and fall over and the split-second when his fingers would barely grab the edge of the cliff, she would toy with the idea of his simple death, would already start mourning.

She would ask him if he's okay and their eyes would meet, the air around them rife with discovery of common experience. Such a curious thing, time and space. ▪

[275 words]