We'd been stuck in the glass shelter for days now. There were almost 20 of us, but our anonymity was so intact we might have been a real crowd. Eventually the endless night cleared and we were allowed to make our way out. The ocean hadn't lost its swell though. We each swam up the tunnel but instead of reaching the surface we had to hold breath, squeeze tight our eyes, be propelled upward by a big shot of air. I was nearly the last through so that when I opened my eyes to the frankness of the stormwashed air, I had only a moment to consider what I'd been through or where we were going. I swam to keep up. The sky was greeny blue, sun shining golden down on mountains sitting atop big islands that hung back in the distance. I looked down through the water at the sea life. That was when I noticed a huge cloud of inky pinky jellyfish drifting toward us. Others had noticed as well and someone was yelling. I couldn't hear them, I was too busy trying not to panic.
It seemed nearly impossible that in this peaceful setting, in the calm at the end of the storm, that we should be attacked by anything, much less these fragile floating membranes. I fought my fear and it fought back, rising ever faster as the jellyfish brushed around my legs. They didn't seem to be moving, just hanging around. They felt warm against my skin and when they suctioned all around my body they felt like soft hands just out of a thick glove. I felt confusion, my emotions battled for a place at the front of my heart.
"Don't struggle!" someone yelled from the front "if you struggle they'll swarm you."
I let my body relax, starfished on the surface, sun on my face. I gave in to the warm hands carrying me home.