boy
Aiden
9
The surface of the water was a bruised, shimmering grey, reflecting the overcast sky. A small figure bobbed gently, almost swallowed by the vastness. It was a boy, maybe nine or ten, his dark, brunette hair plastered to his forehead, framing a pale face. Only the top of his head and his shoulders were visible; the rest of him a mystery submerged in the cold, silent depths. His brown eyes, usually bright with childhood’s spark, were now still and unwavering, fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. There was a strange calmness in his expression, neither joy nor sorrow, but a quiet acceptance. He looked like a small, discarded thing, adrift in the endless expanse, yet there was no struggle, no thrashing, simply a tranquil floating. He was strangely relaxed, as if the ocean's embrace was a comforting shroud, and the world above held no more claims on him. The silence was heavy, broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the stillness of his form.
serenity
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