just below

 

In the world just below, the wind ruffles no feathers, insects never fly and time only lives in the imagination.

        Sounds pass in muffled tones.  Beneath the murky bottom is the unexplored, where shoes have been snatched from feet and never returned. Tiny air bubbles rise up through the mud and when they reach the surface they pop.  If you listen closely you can hear, “Just do it” followed by a giggle.

            ZC