You seemed as deep in thought as I was. We walked on, and the trees became less dense; the sun trickled through again. And not long after, in the distance, we could see the forest ending, something shimmering there. We quickened our steps, almost ran then. As we came to the last rows of trees, we saw it: a clearing filled with a large, brilliant lake, lined by high grasses like a secret. We moved closer, my knees weak with discovery. The water’s surface glistened in the afternoon light, a deep, calm blue. There was not a soul around. We walked to the edge and let our bags drop to the ground, looking across the lake, gleaming like a mirror hit by midday sun. The forest was all around us, and we were in its center, protected and soothed by this glittering eye.

“We have arrived,” I whispered.

You nodded.

“She didn’t promise too much, that old woman!” Your cry was sudden, jump-starting you into action. You stripped off your clothes, abandoned them one by one until you were completely free, the white of your ass contrasting with the brown of your back, jumping in with a scream that echoed across the clearing. You reemerged with a triumphant smile.

“You coming?”

First I slipped off my sandals, then my shirt, which I folded carefully and laid on a soft spot on the ground. I took off my shorts, and then, with a flicker of hesitation, my underwear. You had turned away, swum a little way off. I stood there feeling the wind graze my chest, tickle me between my legs. I looked at the water. I couldn’t see through its body, couldn’t assess its contents. But I stepped in. And the water embraced me completely, softly and coolly. I felt myself anew, as if something in me had been switched on after a long time. It was a sensation of lightness and power and total inconsequence. I began to move, and every movement propelled me forward. The sky above was lighter than the water, specked with tiny clouds. I was conscious of the unknown underneath.

“See, you can do it!” you screamed from across the lake, ecstatic.

I was calm.