It's like there's a wave,

growing higher and higher.

And it's coming toward

in patient, hesitant steps.

Then it stops

for a moment,

with its arms outstretched

over my head.

Then it crashes down on me,

and my eyes go black

and my mind

and my body go limp.

Then the water swishes

around my skull,

and I turned about

and about

and about.

And I see people

and sticks

and stones

flying by.

Swimming through the soot

thats a grey with

red

and silver.

Then the sea slows a bit

and drags me by

my hair.

And I lean over to see,

a great cement wall,

in front of me.

Upside down,

on my back

like that.

I see the highway truss

grow larger

and larger still.

A message in a bottle:

"I'm stranded in

Manhattan.

Tell Celia Choffer, San Franciso, Cali.

That I love her."