she watched the vendor go by. probably all he wanted is what she did, not to be alone. but she had not answered him. no one had helped. all she ever did was dream of the self she could not be, dream she was swimming, dream she was running, dream. she loved the dream - but it was only a lullably. when what is should be is the fire of waking life. she had been wrong in all of it, the rope without anchor. under the water she felt frozen and held, a warming amber enclosing her. she was malleable. i should have done it all differently. in apology things melted, merciful. could you apologise forever? only by going away. her head was hurting, her lungs burned from holding her breath. is anyone there? just one. just one. then there was an answer. a touch of her knee. someone had come. a sand dollar. she burst above the surface, choking, sputtering, coughing, hopeful and grateful. it was a rubber duckling.