chakrani:

they tell you water is without flavor, without smell.

well, don’t believe them; the creek on the hill smells of flowers and sodden wood, and when you scoop a handful to drink like a thirstied traveler, you can taste the freshness and a stray leaf upon your tongue.

the sea smells of salt, carried farther and farther by the fickle winds. it stings your taste buds and you swear you can feel something moving in your mouth, but when you swallow there’s nothing but the smooth flow of water, taste of dread clinging to your esophagus. 

the ocean smells like fear, like centuries worth of sailors drowned in its depths, drinking it means choking on it, means feeling the weight pulling you down, down, down until everything is dark and frightening. the ocean does not forgive, and forgets all to easily whom it should not forgive. never drink from an ocean, lest you feel like gandering your life’s thread with the higher power.

water has only one master, and it certainly isn’t you. you’d do best to remember that.