Ladder

The ladder is made from my grandmother's sheets and exists in two places at the same time: at home and in the forest behind the river in my hometown, Maikop.

There is a ladder.
The ladder still hangs innocently near the side of the schooner.
We who have used it know what it is for.
Otherwise, it's a piece of maritime wire, miscellaneous equipment.
I go down.
Bar after bar, the oxygen always plunges me into the blue light of the clear atoms of our human air.
I go down.

My fins paralyze me, I crawl like an insect on the ladder and there is no one to tell me when the ocean will begin.