"Surrounded by Sleep" Akhil Sharma

"Surrounded by Sleep" was a very interesting story because it unfolded the way people deal with grief. A child is innocent and very unaware of the world. It is the time to explore the meaning and purpose of life. Ajay tries to develop a relationship with God to give him faith that everything will be okay. I had a similar experience in my own life, where I faced tragedy and had to personify and identify a high power to come to peace with the tragedy of life.  A child's perspective is perfect for this piece because childhood is rightfully the time to start questioning everything. What makes the voice powerful and believing is that despite the childhood wonder, there is a deep, adult view that seeps into the view of the child. Overall, I thought the story was beautifully written.


_________________The opening scene made me write this:

The first time I could remember swimming was at Bass Lake. My aunt pulled me up by the straps of my lifejacket and chucked me into the lake. My head bobbed up and down against the flow of the lake, the cool water wrapping against my skin. I'd call up to my aunt, water stinging my eyes. I'd reach up to her, the boat drifting off. I'd kick to her and she'd reach down and yank me out. The straps tight against my neck as I was lifted back onto the  boat.

 When I was in elementary school, I used to yell underwater as the pool cleaner snaked towards my feet. I never swam too close to the gutter either, I feared that it would suck me up.

In the third grade, my mother walked me to the public pool and took my shoes away from me. She told me to get into the chlorinated pool with the rest of the kids. "I don't know how to swim like them, Ma," I whined and she nudged me, promising me that I'd learn.

In middle school, I joined the top swim team in the South Bay. I'd practice every night from six to eight, Monday through Saturday. When people asked me what stoke I swam, I'd say, "Butterfly" because I knew people wanted to hear that. It was the best and the worst time of my childhood.

In high school I joined the water polo team because I was sick of watching the lines at the bottom. It was an exciting sport. Everyone was overly aggressive and I stopped fighting with my siblings because I was too tired. I worked out five hours a day, seven days a week. Water polo exhaustion blurred all my memories of high school.

Today, my back pressed to the bottom of the pool scratching at my back. The black tiles of the lines were rough at my finger tips. I let the air fall from my chest and watched as bubbles floated to the surface. Light reflected from above, making my parents dance at the edge.

I closed my eyes let my empty lungs float me to the surface. My nose peeked out of water and I sipped in the hot air. How peaceful it was.