In order to be fully sympathetic to them, to the peculiarities of their circulation, our own capillaries would have to gradually fail and pool. It is not quite a stretch. Recalling the seconds before bedtime, when invisible compounds - whether from the sediment of heavy metals eaten over a lifetime, or from primordial traces of potassium- sift together and sink the limbs, the tail and fins would imprint on the mattress. Ankles would swell. The red corpuscles will anchor us, grotesquely bloated, to our center of gravity. Instead of subtle aquatic suspensions, blood will be forcibly pulled from the depths, from the toes. The blood must be constantly shot through the body, up to the head, in tedious pints, down to the toes. All without water.