A Drop in the Ocean

     The expanded cotton obscures and thickens. It growls hungrily. Blinding flashes rapidly fall out of the velvet black sky. Liquid crystals burst out of the pillows above. They dive into miles deep of crashing waves. The glossy droplets rupture and shatter into a million pieces as they hit the traffic of waves. They are carried away, being contaminated with bitter salt. It's rush hour. Every half second ten thousand more wet jewels join the sea. Either punctured by first contact of the surface or sinking through the depth, past the rosy coral, along the grain layering the floor. The deeper they drop, the more they become a vanishing memory. The faster they sink, the quicker the sting of embrace fades. Only few damp diamonds persevere through the journey to the bottom. The rest aren't steady enough to keep form and can be demolished without a trace, before the waters even begin to darken. They just prepare to become like all the others, just a drop in the ocean.