beach
It was still dark out when I saw your body. You were curled in on yourself, your back against the slow tar waves. There was a halo of foam around you that I could see shimmering even from a few feet away. I saw it shining before I saw your grey. I didn’t run to you, my stomach started churning and dropping on its own already. I wasn't brave enough to run and I don’t know if I ever would have been. I kept looking at your shoulders, your shoulders that are too sloped to carry a grocery bag for longer than a few minutes without it slipping off. They looked shiny and wet and unnatural; they didn’t look like you. Your shoulders as jellyfish, as malignant parasites waiting for someone to find you before they start doing their dirty work. Your shoulders weren’t moving, they were waiting, but I was walking. I was taking my time because my stomach was dropping and I had to keep kneeling down in the sand to pick it up, brush it off, and fold it back into myself.
I did reach you though. And your wrists looked broken even though they weren’t. Your sea shoulders were beautiful though. That was the only part. Your skin looked grey because it was greying and your face looked gaunt because it was. I remember your lips being chapped from the salt water and heavy breathing. You were already tasting so much, salt and blood and sand and death, that the last thing you would want is someone on your skin. Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe I was just looking at myself in your body. My throat kept closing because I was imagining my body as yours because sometimes it is. I thought of when we were each other and how most of the time it felt good. Most of the time it felt like a mirror if a mirror was warm and had breath and flesh. It is comforting to see your own face look nothing like yourself. As I saw myself all parasite-shouldered and shining, curled in on yourself, I let my shaking hand reach down to you. I let it hang in front of your nose in hopes that I would feel something warm or just something at all. When I did my shaking got worse as my hands started grabbing at inhuman skin. I didn’t want to shake you up, but I couldn’t help it much. I tried to see if your eyes opened any, but my own vision was blurring with salt water. I don’t know how I managed, I wasn’t, couldn’t be, thinking, but I dragged your ocean-heavy body farther away from your sea foam outline. You weighed as much as the whole ocean that night, you swallowed the ocean and everything in it. I’m sure. You were full of brine and oysters and that’s why I was hurting so much. It hurt because you were heavy because you were the ocean and I was dragging you out too far in the sand. The tides weren’t ready for that yet, I am not the moon and I never will be.
(the grey of their bodies melted into the grey of the waves behind them. the moonlight turned everything dull and slow. the squinting of eyes did not make anything clearer. everything was the same and held hands to the point of amalgamation. from the sidewalk, their bodies looked like one, one of a monster or a goblin or a story book villain. a crooked overgrown right shoulder that is actually just a small body folded over, being lifted by a body not much larger.)
BEACH is in the shower, he just finished his song. FERN WITH A V knocks on the door 3 times, startling BEACH out of his trance. It’s dark in the bathroom.
FERN: (behind the door) are you almost done in there?
BEACH: Oh, yeah sorry. I’ve been- I just lost track of time.
FERN: It’s okay, I’m not in a rush. I’ve got nowhere to be.
BEACH gets out of the shower and dries off. He wraps a towel around himself and opens the door for FERN. They just kind of look at each other for a second. BEACH is looking at FERN through the mirror, FERN is looking at him directly.
BEACH: Did you want to shower or…
FERN: No, sorry. I should’ve been clearer.
BEACH: It’s oka-
FERN: You know I’m bad with words and- yeah.
BEACH: It’s fine.
BEACH sits down on the toilet. He figures this may be a while.
FERN: Um, I don’t really know how to say what I need to say.
BEACH: Okay.
FERN: Like, well. Um. I don’t know what I need to say but I know it’s something- well, I know generally what it is, but I don’t know exactly. It’s hard- I can’t really explain it.
BEACH: Okay.
FERN: Okay, so I guess, maybe- well.
BEACH: Well what?
FERN: It’s such a drag.
BEACH: Yeah, it is.
Both of them pause for a moment, not really looking at the other, unsure of what the either is about to say next. All they know is that something needs to be said, something needs to be transferred.
FERN: Sorry, I should’ve just waited for you to finish. I got too- I was just too anxious or something. It felt or I felt like it had to happen now and I don’t really know why-
BEACH: It’s fine. I was almost drowning in there anyway.
FERN: Oh.
BEACH: Can I get dressed first then?
FERN: Oh, yeah. Sorry.
CUT TO: bedroom. BEACH and FERN are sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at their hands. BEACH is flickering in and out.
FERN: Did I wait too long?
BEACH: You didn’t have much of a choice.
FERN: I could’ve gone faster. I could’ve not waited.
BEACH: No, you couldn’t.
FERN: But I felt it. It felt like- I don’t know it felt like I shouldn't've been waiting.
BEACH: You didn’t have a choice. I promise. I felt the same.
FERN: But-
BEACH: I know that’s not really helpful, but you’ll feel it sometime. After more waiting.
FERN: Yeah, that’s not helpful.
BEACH: I’m not lying, though.
FERN: I know you’re not.
BEACH disappears this time, but we can still hear his voice.
BEACH: Something will happen eventually. You’ll feel it eventually.
FERN: I don’t know what it is, though. How am I supposed to know?
BEACH: I don’t know. I never felt it. I’m just telling you what I was told.
FERN: I don’t even know how long a day is anymore. I don’t know how to wait.
BEACH: You’ll start floating soon. Just give it time.
FERN: I don’t have any time to give. I can’t count it on my hands. It keeps slipping through me. It keeps slipping through me. It keeps slipping through me. It keeps-
BEACH is completely gone now and FERN feels it. There is a sense of loss. The camera cuts closer to FERN. They start saying something, something they memorized from a song, to themselves and anyone else invisible who may happen to be listening.
The snow is falling at the perfect speed
The rain is falling at the perfect speed
The cars are driving at the perfect speed
My legs are moving at the perfect speed
My arm is moving at the perfect speed
The door is closing at the perfect speed
The walls are closing at the perfect speed
Your lips are moving at the perfect speed
Your throat is shaking at the perfect speed
My heart is racing at the perfect speed
My chest is closing at the perfect speed