Great Salt Lakewater
It is viscous and warm, like amniotic fluid.
That was my friend’s sensory deprivation tank, just days before I dashed out to the lake for a sunset picnic. It is not like a sensory deprivation tank– except that it is very very salty and so you float if you swim in it. All your senses are alive there, with the warm, smelly breeze and sliver of crescent moon and all those stars. But when you are there, reality changes a bit. Strange that this place exists. Strange that any other place exists, though. It is cold and mysterious, shallow– the sand under the water ridged like the roof of a mouth. In the distance, there are the lights of Salt Lake City, and in the nearby distance the silhouette of the Great Saltair.
But you could easily imagine some new salty Aphrodite rising up out of it, backlit by the refinery and smelling of brine shrimp.