he ocean breathes, her surface rising and falling with rhythmic ease. The waves are her pulse and only just an echo of the souls that lay in her brine. Her skin glistens in nascent rays, an underrated facade for the utopia beneath. My diving suit hitched to my body, head first I cross borders to the land of the unknown.

I am now underwater, a claw of ice grabs me, although day, the water is cold. Flecks of salt make their way through my lips allowing my taste buds to somersault.  A few inches above me the water sparkles as if sequin falling through it and cast reflections that waltz with the crests and troughs of the waves. Below me is a surreal landscape torn straight out of a rainbow, the coral. It smirks at me as if it dreams of colour combinations to break every rule in the book and still be the finest artwork out there. It sings of their colours, a choir seen by the eyes and heard by the souls. Their roots are seeped into the ocean floor, sand, the most gentle hue of gold earthen and muted, a humble background to the scene. Ever so often, parts of the sand perform a little twirl, ballerinas directed by surges of ocean current revealing a cinereal porous rock. I brush my hand through the granules, their rough texture a welcome contrast from the water.

Approaching me to my right a thousand little fins and gills race in a lattice. Each one small, barely a dart of silver, yet fast. Just as they swarm into me another creature cuts through their ranks. She frolics with bold gaiety, owning her self made stage. With scales like the most delicate armour of plating, she messes around with the others before dashing back into her safe haven, the coral.

Within a few second the army of fish reassemble their flanks and shoot into oblivion.

From the corner of my eye I can see my hair , streaks of black cutting through the serenity of the ocean. I glance at my watch and deicide to head back up. The water ever so gentle as I wade all the way to the top, as I temporality close the blinds to a window of magic.

on’t let the exterior of the double glazed automatic glass doors fool you, for once they slide open, what lies in front is nothing short of a snake pit.

 

I walk through the gates only to divulge in a cacophony of noise. Accompanying the ruckus, ostentatious and iridescent red signs prey to the guilty pleasures of innocent victims passing by, enticing them with insidious promises. A corridor of the same monotonous whey aisles brace in themselves in formation against the pulsating crowd. They are armed with a lethal combination of discounts and sales, forever ready to attack. Eager customers push and shove as they try and gain access to scintillating price tags and bargains. Amid the chaos the statuesque security guards seem to be the only still people in sight. The one thing keeping me from spending the day in the nascent honey rays of the sun, is the cool breeze from the vents oozing through the gaps between each customer. The pleasant air conditioning helps waft the aroma of foods from the delicatessen at one end of the market to the other like a nymph luring her men in before the kill.

Deep within the supermarket, a small child drags his feet along the scuffed marble, pulled along by the firm grip of his mother. His multicoloured sneakers screech piercingly against the flooring as he whines aloud. Prying heads snap to the source of the unwelcome soprano, some sigh in disdain while smile unknowingly. His cry finally subsides after surreptitiously placing a bag of M&M’s in the trolley. To my right a woman struggles to walk through to the checkout section. The handles from her shopping bag cover her arms like wrist bands, while the thin straps of the overflowing bags sink deep into her skin. One might find this quite amusing if they are not one of the many desperate people hoiting about the store.