Bob had been a lot of places. He had been in the deepest oceans, the highest clouds, the hottest geysers, the coldest glaciers. He had been in hurricanes, waterfalls, and rainbows. He had been in the blood of Christ, the brain of Buddha, and the mouth of Mohammad. Of all the places he’d been, however, this was his favorite. Far below the earth where only the sound of slow dripping from his brethren is heard, a place where light has never shone, a place where one can spend a thousand years in a pool of placid repose thinking deep thoughts.
Author’s Note: How many molecules of water pass through us in a lifetime? What stories do they have to tell?