This piece contains spoilers for Rime.
“It’s always ourselves we find in the sea” – e e cummings
You first notice it in the sand. The sun screes across the surface, glimmering in the silica and crushed quartz like lakes of blazing light. When you move, your body is a flying dream, each leap a shackle broken, drifting like a Chagall bride. Later on it grows more vivid: those blue caverns, shoals of fabric scraps darting back and forth, the wanderer’s robes undulating like submerged cloth. The ocean is everywhere in Journey.
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