My brothers would always tell me stories of the world of the two legged creatures. They have all been up there before, above the white crested, crashing waves. They told stories of blue skies and large wooden crafts with white wings that navigate the sea. There were feathered creatures that could fly high above our ocean home. White, fluffy formations called clouds moved across the wide expanse of sky.
Most importantly, though, there was a rocky island and a tall, pointy building that shot light into the air. My brothers said that you could see a human boy up in that tower controlling the beams of light.
“What if I can’t find the surface when I’m old enough to swim to the world above?” I had asked my eldest brother, when I was very young.
He laughed at that, and said, “It’s impossible to miss, you just swim straight up.” I listened with eyes opened wide and mouth gaping open, my spirit full of w