The Drifting Bone

A buoyant, chalky cuttlebone drifted slowly above the ribbed sand, tilting with each ripple of the tide. I held myself suspended, waiting until the gentle surge steadied before making my approach. Gliding forward with an unhurried flick of my flippers, I lowered my snout and pressed lightly against the porous white surface. It yielded, dipping toward the seabed beneath my steady push. The moment I backed away, it wobbled, righted itself, and floated upward through the sunbeams. I paused, watching its slow ascent, and prepared to press it down once more.