so it comes down to this.

the drops of sun-warmed sea water slide down my forearm with excrutiating slowness. the roof of my mouth is dry and my lips feel like they've been pickled in brine, but it is of no consequence now. i'm perched on the edge of my seat, hunched over and listening to my breath rumble in my throat. involuntarily, i shudder, but not from any passing sea zephyr.

the tips of my fingers are ice-cold as they trace the jagged edge of the notch i've gouged in the handle of the paddle. i furtively wipe them off on my tanktop, pausing a moment to stare at the wrinkled furrows wrought by the water, the rough calluses formed by so many months of rasping against tar and splintered wood. the skin on my knuckles whitens, the metacarpel bones underneath straining under the drum of my skin as i reclench the paddle.

i chew the edge of my lip in a spasm of nervous energy. yina's trying to ease the sudden stabbing pain in my shoulder. i blink and shift position slightly, hoping that the white fire will bank and slowly ebb away. what if it comes back during the race? the thought sends a chill down my neck. the abrasion from the semifinal stings with malicious vengeance. not now, not after all this. let it go. i exhale, breathe hissing through teeth, exorcising the demon.

the tension melts away. we drift under the welcoming shadow of the bridge, gaining a brief respite from the early twilight sun. the weave of the lifejacket in front of me has a new clarity. everything's so fresh now, everything's flowing away into a heightened consciousness. baptise yourself with the salty water, plaster back your hair. the words we shout echo in the eaves of the concrete. the long hours spent charging up and down kallang, the screams and advice and encouragements flung about the confines of our little boat. its all boiling away, down to this moment, where each second lasts an eternity before being whisked away into the neverending halls of memory.

there's a thousand people on shore and they're standing sentinel to our race. there's our name being announced on a crackling, intrusive loudspeaker, electronically magnified and booming over the pounding surf. there's the lurid tanktop of ntu, there's the crimson of njc. but nothing can touch us anymore. ted shouts something, but its all a dazed and blurred symphony now. i mechanically obey, but the marshal roars into his hailer. abruptly, we cut short the stroke and thrust the paddle into the starting position; the coiled spring of the trap, waiting to strike, taut and hovering above seething foam and teal aqua.

we're off and i pull the first stroke too fast, slicing through the water before the rest. no time for regrets. just row. we shout the numbers and they reel off the line so fast it burns, pulled into the water behind. each beat of the drum jarrs us into a trance, the hollow candence ringing through mind and down into the body. the machine has come to life. its nothing but raw energy and the blinding whiteness of stroke after stroke.

someone's shouting a number now. 0.5. the boat snarls and lunges forward, eager for blood. amidst the gliding speed and the exquisite rage, we're rising. we're smashing our inner prison, heaving and shoving everything aside, ploughing through the debris of the storm. we've disappeared. we've become one. we growl and smash the wood down into the flying spray. we're crying out to believe, for more power and suddenly, it's true. we're pulling with a fierceness born of love for each other. our spirits have melded into one razor sharp point in the heat of the fight, and its aimed at the throat of the boat in front. the belief is so strong, its washing over us all, cleansing the pain and the acids of doubt. it fuels us and we rush for it, screaming with a voice no longer ours.

then, its over.

we jerk, released from our perfect moment, and glance around. its faces and faces, but written over each one is a peculiar happiness, a contentment. we know we did it. we know we touched the sky. for the first time, we flew on the wings of the ac dragon. and we're home..

when you dream, when you let yourself go, that's when you'll know.

girls, i love you all.