A sort of tickling. I felt gasses swell in me, then burst forth from my ears and my anus. I, still weighted down with iron chains. I felt no sense of time. Not of its passage.
Time works differently here in the ocean.
But only of cycles. As that of the beach that bordered the ocean. The swimmers by bright hours, from the resort beach. The one closed to townspeople. At least for those first cycles, even if covered with deep blue-green blotches, enlarging to pustules.