She floated on the water, unfolding, stretching out and opening like a lotus flower. The stars were bright and shining; little irregular polka dots, the size of this period .
The water on her skin felt good; brisk but soft. It plashed and undulated, as though lapped up by a great invisible dog.
Maybe it was Orion's.
It's strange, she thought, that most people are made up of water, but when placed in it, some of them sink and cannot swim.
Water can sustain life or drown it.
Like fire. Or love.
Several small, sailboat leaves had fallen from the trees and landed in the water, floating on top lazily, stranded out at sea.
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