Just a lonely plastic bottle is kissed by the waves, on a calm day in the Andaman sea.
It was designed to carry one point five litres, or maybe two, of potable liquid.
But now, empty, confused and unwanted, is drifting along, carried by the currents to an uncertain destiny…
Either to be devoured by the hungry jaws of disoriented specimens that will pay a heavy price for their misperception
by meeting a slow and painful end to their short sub-aquatic incarnation.
Or, maybe, our container will end up as a castaway fugitive in the pristine beaches of a faraway island,
or in a mainland harbour, where she will share the eternal process of disintegration with millions of other artifacts,
equally abandoned and unwanted after a quick, thoughtless, irresponsible act of single use and disposal;
the self-mutilating symbol of our suicidal age.