Riding home I couldn't help but stop. At first I thought it was the houseboat that caught my eye and mind, but after looking for a little while I realised that the water didn't look like water and the bridge didn't look like a bridge. The water perfectly mirrored the autumn leaves with its soft ripples creating a kind reflection of those above. Such a simple thing yet it had me in awe.

A few Water Inspired Short Stories

A cat moves with care up to the waters edge. It stretches its neck out as far as it can to avoid wetting the fur under its chin. Tongue touches water and quenches thirst. Eyes up while lapping, always alert watching for danger or strangers that could disturb the calm body of water it has found. A wet cat is not a happy cat.

She sits cross legged by the pond in her garden. Her fat collects at her knees and her back is dead straight. Her eyes don't wander from the water. She is concentrating. She stretches out her arm and points one finger. Her hand is a little ball of fat poking out from beneath a warm piece of clothing. Her untamed hair protrudes out from underneath a beanie, and her nose is pink. The sun shines though. Furrowing her face with tension she reaches forward and dips her finger through the clear mirror, the surface of the water. In shock at the iciness but also at the ripples created, she hugs her arm to her chest and looks around for her mother. Her mother's eyes are closed nearby with her face soaking up the sunlight. She turns her attention back to the pond, waits for the water to clear into a mirror before doing it again with delight.

She stops on her bike and pauses. There's no one around. She climbs off her bike and lays it down. The wheel spins. She walks slowly to the edge and looks around her before settling her attention on the expanse of water in front of her. She lets her backpack slide off of her and drop lightly to the ground. The harbour is quiet. A boat or two move past on the other side sending waves, lapping at the concrete down below where she's standing, and the wind picks up water droplets placing them onto her cheeks and eyelashes. She crouches down, sitting down with clumsiness, letting her legs dangle over the water. A deep breath. The water calms her mind. Any worries are long gone as she lets the water remind her of its power. And of her powerlessness in this world. She closes her eyes. She imagines her fingertips touching the water. She imagines. Her hands strong on harbour wall, push off and she falls. Her toes touch water first, tickled and chilled. The water engulfs her and she finds herself beneath the surface with her eyes open and arms outstretched. She is naked. The water is murky. She takes a breath - and finds that she can. The sun shines through the glass above creating rays around her. She is calm. It is cold though. Very cold. The sun disappears behind a cloud, she can't see. She looks around in panic, she can't breathe. She starts to scream - her eyes open and she gasps herself awake. She's in the harbour. On the edge. There's no one around.