Urban Habitat

She propelled her arms, keeping speed, water spitting onto her thighs and feet and shins. The finish line was still just a distant red line. An orange kayak passed at her left, it’s clip likely twice hers. She smirked, huffing as she bent into the push of her right arm. Her wrist began to cramp; her forehead sweated in the summer sun. She was not far behind, but far behind enough at this point that the finishing ribbon would likely be ripped long before she reached it.

As she thought this, holding pace, the left end of her oar struck something, something solid like a rock but with a give that gave her pause. She turned to it, breathing heavily and suddenly feeling a need to be still. She gently lifted her oar, and out followed a snakelike head, silky skin like the night sky. A small, oar-like fin flapped at the side of her kayak; a soft, blinking black eye looked into hers. She smiled despite herself.