by Mira Zamin
Where was she? The moments stumbled on with infinite slowness. She was icy cold. Water and brine rose in her throat and her lips spewed froth and saliva. It pooled onto the sand. She fell off her elbows and onto the contents of her stomach. The sun glowed red against her eyelids as she collected her thoughts. Water dripped out of her ear.
She was…water lapped against her prone form…somewhere near water…and sand…she remembered from her brief glimpse of the ground. It was cold. When was she? That made no sense…she was…Atlantis. At the thought, pain flared in her foot and leg and the memories rushed in and Calista suddenly wished they would submerge themselves again.
She rolled over, and more water sputtered out. She tried to sit up but the world spun around her in a haze of blue and brown. She lay back down but on her side this time and opened her eyes. So used to the watery light of Atlantis, they were overwhelmed by the direct sun. I can see…trees…this is not Portus Tarrus…where am I? What happened? Evadne! Claudius! The thought of him jolted her to dizziness again but she remained upright this time.
Licking her lips, she found them cracked and dry. She felt light, as if tons of weight, to which she had grown accustomed, were no longer bearing down on her. An attempt to shift her foot resulted only in stinging pain coursing up and down her leg. She shivered against the cold. The sound of the ocean, its soft rocking against her body lulled her back out of consciousness. She fell against the moist sand with a dull thud.
