Tales at Telunas
” Hurry up and jump!” My sister called from the water. I was telling myself nothing to it: falling is merely flying downwards, feet first, without wings, into the deep Indonesian waters. I looked down and saw certain death— the distance between my feet and the sea, a stretch of nothing to save me from the truth of gravity. I jumped anyway in an attempt to catch myself unaware. Not the greatest of ideas, I submerged with my mouth open, the beginning of a curse doused by a swig of saltwater. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut.
For three days,
