Zanzibar

Down on the beach a crowd had gathered, delirious from the food and festivity.Their fire had burned long into the night, and musicians strummed at their instruments, filling the warm night air with a harmony the town hadn't felt in a long time. The dead had long been buried, and all that remained of the carnage were memories best forgotten. 

The crowd sat around the fire on the sand. A woman suddenly rose and swayed in time with the music and sang with melodic angst in her voice. She took on the form of a tall and willowy shadow set against the blue black Zanzibar sky. She floated, more than danced, in time with the music and then stepped from her huddled circle of friends to walk solo along the beach. Beneath the rays of a half moon, her jet black hair fell loose and long down a dress made of fabric so sheer and so fine that one could easily determine the curves and crevices of her body.

She stopped near the water's edge and lifted her willowy arms to the moon, and laced her fingers together above her head. She arched herself backward, enough to see the inverted crowd and then straightened herself, dropping her arms with too much force by her sides. Her palms slapped at her thighs and she sighed into the night. She was bored with the others - not one of them sparked any interest in her tonight.

She took a few steps into the tepid sea. It was hard to determine the difference in temperature between water and shore. It all felt the same. A wave rolled in; smooth and unobtrusive and she let it consume the parts of her that she could feel. Its force wrapped around her ankles and calves and she felt its lunatic pull as it tugged her toward an ocean of swirling potential. She glanced back up the beach, toward the dwindling fire and subdued conversation of friends and without further thought, she waded into the sea and began to swim.