Good Night, Blue

"Once upon a time," said the green fish, to the Ocean. "Once upon a time, a girl fell from the sky."

"Is this a bedtime story?"asked the Ocean.

"Close your eyes and see," said the wise, old fish. "She fell from the sky and her feet were made of blue.
Blue like the sky.
From all the thin lines she had been trying to walk.
She crashed into the water but the fall did not kill her, though to look at her you could tell she wished it did."

"Do I remember this?" asked the Ocean. "Do I remember a blue girl, falling from the blue, into the blue?"

"Perhaps," said the fish. "But you are full of girls."

"That's true," said the Ocean.

"She floated on the surface like foam. Pinned to the water. Unable to move."

"Why didn't she swim"?

"She couldn't."

Why didn't she drown?"

"She didn't know how.
Are you getting sleepy yet?"

"No," said the Ocean.

"Then listen."
"Her feet were blue," continued the wise, old fish, "and her nails were torn and her teeth broken."

"Excuse me," said the Ocean. "But why?"

"From holding on," sighed the fish. "Try to keep up."

"She floated like broken foam. For days. For weeks. Suspended between opposing blues, committing to neither. She moved with the tides and as she did, her hair turned into seaweed and her fingers began to web."

"I think she's turning into a fish," the Ocean whispered.

"One morning, the girl awoke to discover her skin turned to scales and slices of gills along her ribs.
'I've turned into a fish,' the girl said to herself.
And she became afraid. For the first time since she fell she began to swim towards shore, but she had traveled so far and could see no land. She moved like a human, on top of the water, taking in air through her mouth, but she tired quickly and traveled slowly.
That night, there was a storm on the ocean and the girl was tossed about wildly, from wave crest to wave crest, until at last, exhaustion and terror drove her to dive deep into the calm places of the water. She breathed in her first gill full of water and stretched her webbed fingers. She shot through the water, free, green hair streaming behind her."

"Oh!" laughed the Ocean. "I like this very much. I remember. I remember how that felt."

"She swam for a night. For a day. For a week. Until she came to a shore, and pulled her silver, webbed body up, onto land."

"She left me?" asked the Ocean.

"Yes." said the fish.

"Why? Why would she do that?"

The fish said nothing.

"Will she return to me?"

"Perhaps," said the fish. "I've heard that she is living on a beach and sleeps with her feet in the surf."

"What is she waiting for?"

"She doesn't know," said the fish. "But I think she's trying to say good bye to the ground. It's not an easy thing to do."

"I know," said the Ocean."

"No, you don't," said the fish.

"You forget," said the Ocean, "I grew up in fat white clouds. I fell from the sky, too."

"Your eyes are closing," said the old, green fish.

"Tell her to come home. Come home, girl."

"Good night, Ocean."

"Good night."