“...She could sail this ocean. She could walk across it like some girl Jesus. She could command the waters to split and stroll the bottom. She could glide above it like a seagull angel and watch it ripple beneath. There are other lands and other seas that could be hers. A man can throw a carton of milk and grab a wrist and kneel in a hallway and beg a person to stay. But she, unbeknownst to him, had been a stone in the shape of a girl the whole time, sinking in her very own ocean, ignoring his watery yelling above... ”