Creek Running North

One day the tide went out and kept on going.

We went down to the sea to walk there, among upended fish and boats fallen over. There were some among our people who were nervous. “A great ebbing brings a killing wave!” they cried. And yet when hours passed, then days, and mud that had been a fathom deep cracked hard under a strangely swollen sun, they were at last persuaded.

The days were endless. The sun hung motionless above the western horizon, over canyons and broad plains we had not known.

We ventured farther from the old shore. Dry kelp, dry eelgrass tumbled in a dry wind. At length we stood upon the brink, the edge of the broad shelf that had fringed our land, and the old seafloor fell swift away from us. A mile down we climbed, the scent of old brine sharp in our nostrils, our steps raising a fine pale dust that made us cough hard.

There were those of us who had been lost at sea and we found them, alive beneath the wreckage of their ships. Their hair was ropy and green and they greeted us distractedly, lost in opaque thought. Aquamarine eyes that had once been brown or gray fixed on the sun, alarmed. We bade them return with us but they did not follow.

We stayed with them, our colors changing over days.

What were our spines but the backbones of fish? What were our arms but fins? We were fish then again, scuttling at the bottom of a sea of air. The air grew thick around us, cloaked the sun. A mile above us thick air parted from thin, a meniscus overhead, seething.

One day we walked toward our homes on the old shore, but the air grew thin as we arrived. We could not stand, nor breathe, but fell down gasping. Animals were there and they watched us choke, the dogs we had left to guard our homes grown sleek. They regarded us with curiosity, with pity. Their eyes had changed, grown yellow with fire in them.

The dogs came to us, where we lay dying, and kindly pushed us back into the depths where we could breathe. They watched us with some fondness a while longer, then turned and went about their business, lords of the world we left for them.