I am cold but I will manage, if only to linger in this place of order and resilience. The amber forest sways with an unseen force and my regulated breath falls into sync with this rhythm, a steady stream of bubbles rushing to the surface as if ushered by destiny. I am alien here, yet accepted. 

Sunlight cascades through 44 feet of sea filling this water world with the magic only light can conjure. Shadows shimmer in azure hues concealing the life here to all those who refuse to look deeper. Eyes are everywhere. Eyes that look on my movements with curiosity–never judging, always perceiving. Gender is fluid in this place. There is no room for rigidity when survival is at stake. 

I glide between the blades of kelp as easy as any sheephead, surveying the landscape of this paradise lost. Purple urchins reach their spikes towards me in militaristic display, with numbers echoing the greed of man. Their appetite lays waste to forests such as these. Forests whose protector’s pelts were taken along with their lives long ago with little care of the price. In a flash of steel and gloved hand I commit murder in the war for balance. My victim’s violet blood barely visible amongst the Spanish shawl as it dissolves into the sea.

I’m low on air, such a human problem. It is painful to leave the depths. Steadily I follow a jagged incline of rock, weaving between waving fans and rising toward the world left behind. I linger at 15 feet as I must and am greeted by one resident here who refuses to blend in. I offer him the corpse I carry and in a flash of california orange he takes my offering.

I break the surface, no longer free.