The boy would crawl up onto the highest rock he could find, climbing higher if his mother was away, and look up into the blue.
“You can see them,” he would tell the other children. “If you watch for long enough, you can see them.” And the other children would laugh at him, and leave him to his watching. His father would laugh too, in that deep, throaty way that he did, leaning over to drop a heavy hand on the boy’s thin shoulder and say, “Such a dreamer, my boy. Always a dreamer.”
They would laugh at him, and ignore his protests, and they would argue that even if it were true, it would be impossible to see through the miles and miles of ocean and seaweed and murky sand.
Yet still the boy watched. He would climb up onto his rock and stare up for hours and hours, waiting for a glimpse. A glimpse of the world above, where creatures walk on dry land, where they breathe air and not water, where they can feel the sun shining down and warming their faces. The boy would watch, and he would wait, and he would dream.
Prompt: Write about a scene (in under 336 words exactly) where human life exists underwater, and all of the fish and marine animals live on land (via yeahwriters)