A drabble is a piece of fiction constrained to exactly one-hundred words. I use these short works to hone my brevity.
The waves swelled above like roiling hills, with energetic surges that battered a swimmer like me.
Still, I didn't want to go back inland.
I had seen death and grief from the outside before.
Partners lost their partners from time to time in unexpected upheavals.
I had held my partners through the start of it.
Just as they had held me.
Drowning in grief wasn't predictable.
Like the stormy sea, it crashed and plunged haphazardly.
Other times it was placid.
Even with support, I often swam it alone.
Was there still breath left in me to swim ashore?