IN MEDIAS RES, III



All our lives begin in the 
middle of things—in medias

res. My cold, wrinkled feet
harden on the soft, damp wood

underneath me; it serves as my
ground. I drifted too far from

the shoreline so I made a
casket out of things the ocean

gave me: a pillar of salt, and
a slimy creature of unknown

variety.  I was adrift, but for the
first time, I was not lost. Years 

ago, scientists found out that
living organisms lived near

underwater volcanoes, with
temperatures reaching to

unbelievable heights of 500 °F.
It is only of recent that we knew

life can be found in unlikely
places. Your mouth is the

graveyard of expectations, my
words vultures trying to

pick out anything that was yet
to die. There are no vultures in the

sea, only microscopic organisms
living in underwater volcanoes.