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Cove supposed it was possible to love the ocean but not love being in the ocean.
In that moment, Hestie felt transported to another world. The stairs belonged in some long-forgotten mansion. The sediment was like dust, accumulated over a hundred years. And she floated over the carpet runner nailed into the steps, her hands held toward the railings but not touching. She was disembodied, drifting through the ceiling and into another realm.