Laurie Nadel

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My former identity was lying around, somewhere, fragmented and buried, like shards from an earlier civilization

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Barely halfway back, exhaustion sets in. What if I don’t make it? An edge of panic gets intercepted by a calmer inner voice: Look behind you

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Instead of falling, I am dancing with the wind

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Lucid dreams often feel like this—as if you are observing yourself from a point over your shoulders-arm flexed, hands curving around the boom, breathing, in three dimensional silence

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Out here on the water, it’s a fine line between feeling in control and losing it altogether