I tried walking into the kitchen, but the way was blocked. On the top step down was the fridge door, covering the stairs.
Earlier today my partner convinced me that the blue jellies aren't dangerous, and that I should touch one. We were sitting on the small wooden sea-leveled platform at the tail end - or whatever seafolk call it - watching them slowly drift past right below us. They looked magnificent. Maybe two or three times the size of my hand, almost fully translucent with a bright blue rim at the edges. The center of the body, maybe half the diameter, housed four perfect circles placed edge to edge, again with bright blue rims. I thought I could see gentle sparks inside them, but it could also just be reflections from the sun.
I expected them to be... I don't know - flat? And thin? In a way. But gently poking it felt strangely solid and firm.
Then it continued gently drifting away.
I'm not from this coast. When I did my intentional belly flop (it's just a thing I do) my first thought was not of how cold the water was, but how much it tasted of salt. When I'm not swimming in a lake I on reflex expect the water to be brackish.
I think I can get used to this, though. Tonight I will dream of jellies.