The Lonely Sailor

Gasping for breath I flail, my sailboat has been flipped by the raging storm outside, in which I am encompassed right now. Trying to make sense of it all, I fight the torrent rushing at me. I have no clue from where the water is coming or what way I am swimming. I'm not even swimming, I'm just moving my arms in a feeble attempt to resist nature.

Nature, in all of its majesty and peacefulness, is more violent than any war-torn country. It can make a glorious, mile-long and seemingly impregnable steel ship bend in half and become devoured by the unslakable ocean, only to be rediscovered later covered in plants, and half-buried in sand. It can turn a thriving city into a serene lake, filled with disease and pain.

Now here I am, resisting futilely, trying to think of a way to escape. Shards of wood are flying past, along with metal parts of the former stairs to the upper deck. My sanctuary is quickly becoming my demise. I am stuck in a room, and it's pitch black, except for a sliver of light at the top, or is it the bottom, or side, of this encasement. After I reach the hole, I firmly shake the hatch and it slides open lethargically.

I hear the frightening creak of my boat crumbling up like a piece of paper destined for the rubbish. The creaking reminds me of the melancholy, slow utterances of whales I hear on informational t.v. shows. Maybe it is a whale, but I am not worried about that right now. My lungs are burning, and my brain is yearning for precious oxygen, the pangs grow more unbearable each second.

I swim with all my strength up, up, up, even though I have no idea which way I am going. Give me air!, give me life!, my body screams at me. It cant be too far away, I know it. I reach for air, as if air was palpable and I could grab it, but to no avail. There is only water and I do not have gills. The water pushed more on my ears, and I felt it, which told me that I was going the wrong way. Too late to turn back, I'm much too far to make it back up. I accept the fact of my impending death. BREATHE!!!
My brain tells my body, for it can't take it anymore, it's dry.

I inhale the life-giving water and salt, but this is not air, and my brain is not fed. I start to think of more peaceful things. My body has already given up, and I lay on a bed of grass, surrounded by plants and melodically chirping birds. Slowly the coldness of the water drifts away and I am warm, and calm, relaxed. Finally I forget about what has happened and it's just me, completely relaxed, and peaceful with myself, and I drift away, succumbing to the storm.