Under the water.
At the bottom of the shore, it lies.
It faces the ocean roof, and peeks out to the sun, that peeks out to it.
It breathes and stares on into the glass top.
Everything is slow.
Everything is cold.
This is where it always was.
This is where it always is.
The water overflowed the hole hidden in the stomach.
There is peace for once.
It could cry of joy, but no one would know.
That is why it ran.
That is why it left.
To take a breathe into the unknown.
To be where others disapproved.
It's the disapproval that drives the car.
And the car falls.
And the car drags a figure to the ocean bed.
And the figure lies on the bed.
And instead of sleeping it stares at the ceiling, as it always has.