SF Drabble #249 “Twilight Years”

I can’t explain it, not so you would really understand. First you’re swimming, treading water, and then they come up to get you. You feel like you’re about to drown, you’re drowning. It’s not until your lungs are full of water that the thing really starts, I don’t know why, But that’s when they’re suddenly around you, down your throat, inside.

It’s not sexual, regardless of what  people say: it’s communication. You go from panicky thrashing to a pleasant conversation in a couple seconds. Mort went back up to the liner right after, shaken, but I want to go again.

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