Air was just another kind of water. It was the darkest blasphamy– death if ever she dared speak it where others could hear. But she sang it to herself, when she was down in the Deep, compressed into the smallest of her forms. Here where the oceans were sludge and she could just skim the crystallized tips of God’s fingers, where he reached up from Heaven below.
And if He did not strike her up, ejecting her from the depth faster than she could decompress, then didn’t that mean she was right?