It was water that brought them together, though neither one could swim.
The young one envied frogs, marveled at their ability to absorb liquid through the skin, fixated on the dual nature of their cycle.
Yet there was an underlying uneasiness with their lives, one that caused her throat to constrict and her lungs to tighten.
This heavy feeling of water repelled yet fascinated her.
Perhaps it was the leftover imagery of what had once tried to reclaim her, perhaps it was the innate understanding that this element held life’s secret core, perhaps it was her bond with the older one.
The older one, who feared water with the same intensity that others fear death, now began to reach out to the element that suffocated her subsconscious for so long.
She remembered the miracle of life as the younger one hung suspended in a cave of water before bursting forth with a cry of elation and shock, her entrance into the world heralded with the applause of water.
The older one’s fingers instinctively smoothed over the folds of her aged abdomen where the younger one once waited with her.
Two were one so long ago.
Now the water called, beckoning one closer, holding the other at bay.
While the liquid of the earth might warrant trepidation, the water of the soul commands only love.
They smiled, each for the other.
What joined them now would one day seperate them – but the tides remained, eternal and perfect, as the moon this very night.