continuum

I dreamed of water. I lived in a pool at the bottom of a black and white tiled mansion. Vastness, and he was there again confessing love and running. They started shooting at him as ran and chips of old ceramic tile exploded behind his feet. I slid out of the pool dizzy and light, coated and soaked as saturated hair fell over my face. Long hair. I shivered and pulled the black nozzle of a gun out from somewhere. I tried to stop it. I shot back, felt the kickback graze my bones, but they had more guns. In the back of my buzzing brain I felt fatalism and the familiarity of a reenactment. I shouted at him. No noise! We ran up black wire staircases in spirals, shooting at the walls, around corners. He slipped and fell stories down, soundlessly into the pool below. I jumped. We sank together underwater and I let in a long breath, filtering oxygen from the water to my lungs. He stared into my eyes helplessly. The tiles at the bottom of my pool patched black and white, shimmered on the surface of the water seen from below. I waited for him to drown. He shook his head. I grabbed him around the waist and pushed off the bottom with a bare foot. We broke the meniscus simultaneously. He gasped. A shot rang out and threw its burst of force against my shoulder. I felt warm liquid against cool and held him closer without looking back. No more shots. His head split and blood soaked red over blue into the water. I zoomed out.