I hated the sea, its vastness, and uncertainty.
Thrown on a boat, tethered to the helm.
Murky brown waters fade to clear blue as the sun beats down on me, all around me.
Blinding heat chokes me as salt permeates my skull.
I yearn for blissful shade, a gust, a breeze.
Thirst falls upon me, my mouth unable to form words.
I cannot scream for help.
No longer do I care about how alone I am on this vessel.
The time has come for me to survive.
My teeth saw my hands free from the ropes, it takes hours.
Struggling to keep my balance I peer over the side of the ship, the depth is dizzying.
Panic sets in.
I am alone.
The engine rolls over every time I try to start it, I am dead in the water.
So I allow myself to float.
Staring at the clouds as I lay on my back trying to remain calm.
Time passes.
I reflect back on my life before The Boat.
Kick my self over all the time I took for granted.
Nausea, exhaustion.
At some point, I lull off into a warm sleep.
Visions of cold water and comfort fill my head.
I wake.
I cry.
Night comes and the sky explodes.
I never realized how terrifyingly microscopic I am in this universe.
Millions of stars guide me through the night, singing lullabies.
The water becomes still in an almost malicious way.
Dawn begins to break and I’m carving words into the planks on the floorboard.
And then a bump.
Land.
