There, he struggled.

Like Atlantis minutes before its demise.

His arms flailed in desperate attempts to grasp onto the air.

The water below him was in turbulence as his legs frantically kicked in search for solid ground.

Here, I stood.

Like a bristlecone pine tree embedded into the earth.

The floaties dug into the skin around my upper arms.

My legs were rooted solidly onto the wooden dock.

Through his gurgles and the sound of water flooding his lungs, he screamed for help.

He pleaded. He begged.

But I was afraid.

Finally, his agonizing cries stopped.

His arms stopped flailing.

His legs stopped kicking.

Before his brick-like body sunk,

I saw the humanity in his eyes die.