Our Crocodile Tears (H)
Our Crocodile Tears (H)
Itajara
Slowly descending into the depths of self-pity. No air, just the constricting pressure of the water above me. I'm not strong enough to surface, but I'm too scared to sink any further. My hand is outstretched towards the surface, though I won't - I can't - let anyone know that I am unable to get air into my lungs. If I scream for help, they will know I am drowning. Suffocating in my own lies, I drift further into my undoing. There is only one escape, yet I can't get myself to take its hand
  • Short story