Any fool who fights the sea loses.
The walls of water smacking into your chest, stealing your breath as you tumble through the mess of Poseidon's domain,
seaweed gripping your ankles like hands from hell,
shell shards slicing your sternum,
saltwater tang on your tongue,
a briny burn in your throat,
affronted with ten thousand tons of pure, unbridled force,
and for a fragmented fraction of a moment
you know what it means to be a god.
You're sixteen and you're never going to die.