Kezdőlap

I don’t differentiate. I don’t know.
I have no eyes – just a bunch of exposed spikes. One of them is rusting. I thought no one would ever visit me again.
Deep down I never know what’s coming. All I can feel is the gentle shudder of the sea. A sound. A soft thump beneath me. Something is approaching. A mass. A shape. I hope it’s metal. Maybe wood. Either way, it’s fresh meat.
I can’t tell. I don’t want to.
I don’t ask questions. I just am.
They put me here. They tied me up. I’m floating on a chain.
Sometimes I wobble – just a little. Like an angry thought, if someone swallows it back.
I’m not malicious. I never have been. I have one job: To wait. To react. To explode.
The night is pitch black. Underwater is deadlier. There are no colors. There are no feelings. Everyone is afraid of me. I am not afraid of anyone. Maybe that is why they hate me.
The ship is approaching. I don't see a flag. Red Cross? What does that mean? That I shouldn't strike?
I am not striking. I am just reacting. Like a tsunami. Like a guillotine.
Red is black in the dark.
It is coming. Big. The water is pounding around me. Deeper and louder. A towering shadow closes in.
Its body is wide, deep, arrogant. It is not a warship. But it moves like one. And I am no longer sure if my chain will hold me Through my dance of joy.
A thread trembles.
A twitch.
The reflex is charged.
It's happening now.
And I...
I can finally do something.
I explode - towards the sky.