...in a mussel bed
You’re standing in a mussel bed. You hear calcareous shells clicking, exoskeletons colliding with other calcareous shells. You’re standing in the middle of a forest colony, and your every movement creates a surge that flows through all the host algae around you. Every host alga, the backbone of this forest colony, is home to hundreds and thousands of shells.
You hear your breath, you hear the rushing noise, and you trust your ears: this dimension envelops you, as does this deep muffled noise, this unceasing, vast noise that is surely always there, even when you aren’t. You are standing right in the middle of this being. You lift your head, squint and see the brightness of day through the water’s surface.
You hear Anna say, “I don’t know exactly where you are. But I’m with you. Now I’m walking over to a blue square object in your vicinity. It’s as big as a medium-sized table. It is near the street the tram runs on. Sometimes it spits water, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s pretty bulky. You’ll find it nearby. Come to it, we’ll meet there. At the blue square block and on page 30.”