The same suffocating feeling was back, but at least I reached the phone. I looked at it from where I lay and stifle a sob: I had knocked the phone face down, giving me no access whatsoever to the tactile screen. Another thought dawned on me : how was I supposed to make the thing work? I tried flapping my useless fins around as well as speaking. Not a single sound came out of my throat. Right, I had no vocal cords. I could try calling for Tom as much as I wanted now, all he’d hear was the slight pops of my mouth opening and closing.
The itching on my scales was unbearable and I raised my head a bit to see exactly where I was and I blanched. Or I would have blanched if I could. I guess I still couldn’t quite manage to do the graceful leaps that were supposed to come with this body. I’d given my jump too much power and not only had I knocked the phone over, I’d managed to launch myself much further than expected. I now not only was far from the phone, I was also nowhere near the water’s edge.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe, I could feel my gills doing their utmost best to take in oxygen in the air but they simply weren’t meant to do that. I tried flopping towards the water, one jolt at a time. I was having trouble aiming in the right direction, after all, this tail was supposed to give me easy movement on water, but nothing much on dry land. I was a like a fish out of the water. No I was a fish out of the water. To make matters worse, I was rapidly tiring myself out. With each push towards salvation, I’d go forward a little less until I could barely manage a feeble flop at all.