Our eyes met across the lake and I marveled at her roller skating technique.

The way she glided so gracefully, like a warm breeze or a pleasant thought.

Like an angel.

She saw me too. I felt her gaze on me as I skated.

I became hyper aware of my movements, trying to match her grace while also trying to appear as effortless as her.

It was no use. I couldn't match her elegance, but what I lacked in that, I made up for in volume.

Specifically the volume of my voice.

I had been pushing my body to become louder.

Over the course of months, I had gone from a man of average vocal strength to a man the neighbors recognized by my booming "I'M SHOWERING" and "I'M GOING TO SLEEP" announcements.

As we moved towards each other, I felt the swelling in my chest grow.

I knew we were about to meet face to face and I became even more aware of the way I was skating.

In a moment of hubris, I began skating backwards and announced to everyone that I was doing so.

While my roller skating was sub-par, I could tell that my shouting had impressed her.

She matched my enthusiasm by whipping her hair in a circle as if it was a keratin propeller pushing her forward.

Impressive.

I had become entranced by her method of travel and in a moment of carelessness I fell backwards into a giant pile of writhing bodies.

It was a mass of slithering broken limbs and rollerskates.

The moans.

Christ the moans.

So many of the men had already died and yet so many weren't yet that lucky.

As I layed there, trying to move my legs but finding them to have the composition of a bag of sand, I felt another body crash into us.

Some of the men under me had finally met their fate.

I turned my head to the side and heard the bones in my neck shift over each other like dice.

From this position, I could see her.

Graceful as ever.

She was leading another man to what would be his final resting place.

We made eye contact.

She looked beautiful.