we were speeding down a vast and desolate ocean, in a boat that felt too playful given the circumstances. no clouds. no waves. not even an island on the horizon on which to hang my hat or anchor my fear. which only made me more uneasy. she had asked me to dream about trees as tall as mountains but now all i could see in every direction was a turquoise desert littered with bright orange rafts. it would have made a beautiful painting. not the elusive debris of a plane gone missing. just the living, smiling corpses of vacationers enjoying themselves in the ocean. laughing. frolicking. splashing about. blissfully unaware of just how far out the tide had brought them.
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