How am I going to get out of this? Cold from the neck down, nothing beneath my feet, the sky above is dark. I tread the substance, cycling still. I’m breathing. And I’m alone.
What else is there? All I know is now. What happened to the joy? The misery? The unrelenting anger? All is numb, because to feel the fear is to feel doom. There’s only the cold. The warm seems so far away. Does it even exist?
‘Help!’ I shout. But the world ignores me. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen!’ I cry.
From out of nowhere I see the stars. They form the lines for me, and I trace the shapes, and see:
A drop. A spark. A loving smile.
I look ahead, but I see nothing. It’s choking me; strangling me, the sea fills my vision. The black and white and blue water. A little red light slowly blinks away above where my heart is.
‘Joey! Don’t get lost in your thoughts again!’
‘I’m just having an existential crisis.’
Her hand is on my shoulder.
‘You have help, Joey, okay? Don’t you ever forget that.’
A helicopter whirs overhead, blending with the night sky. A beacon of light shines down on me. A ladder descends. I’ve gotten so used to the cold it comforts me. But I want to know what the warm is like.
I grab the first rung.