Silent Currents Rising

The sea whispered only in ripples, each one echoing the glow above where green ribbons draped the sky like breath held too long. Beneath, the shells glimmered like sleeping eyes, and the corals poised themselves as if mid-question. I saw the glass sphere balancing without tremor, its letters humming gently—*Where Vojta?* The sound hid inside the word, faint as chimes behind a door you never found. Dark silhouettes sailed under the auroral sheen, moving sharp and patient, their fins slicing like drawn thoughts. Every quiet shape seemed to keep watch, yet none climbed from the deep to speak. Would he have walked across this mirrored skin if the lights stretched into ladders? Or did he slip lower, past the coral’s cold clutch, chasing something that sang? Even now the message glows against the dark tide, and still no one can point to where Vojta drifts.