The sea. It was a petulant, self-centered thing. A fickle mistress who called for her daughters mostly, and remained untamed by men. Perhaps that was why it was so tempting to seek Her out; to take from her, to watch her, to tempt fate — as he was doing now.
Was doing. The water had been so tempting in this summer heat and, while Dubloon had known better, he wasn't himself. He saw that deep blue — heard the inviting thrum of ocean waves throttling the beach — and he began to wade. He stepped lightly at first. The water soaked in to his legs, his chest, up to his shoulders - then he was treading water, but it was sublime.
Cold. It washed across him. He swam happily for a while, but the sun still affected him. He was foolish — he was drifting, and the current swept him further, further, further still, until —
it was so cold. Everything so heavy. He was so tired and the shore, it was -- it was gone.
The waves were singing to him. A jolly old song with so many voices — they were familiar as they rolled in, but they filled his head with brine so thoroughly that the song became nothing — he, became nothing. A headpiece filled with sand.
The waves crashed across his broad back; he couldn't keep it up. He couldn't — but he was trying!
The sea's shadows were waiting. They drifted beneath him, growing bigger and bigger, until he was dwarfed — a speck in the great sea —
And the whale came up, and the whale went down, and Dubloon was gone.
Was doing. The water had been so tempting in this summer heat and, while Dubloon had known better, he wasn't himself. He saw that deep blue — heard the inviting thrum of ocean waves throttling the beach — and he began to wade. He stepped lightly at first. The water soaked in to his legs, his chest, up to his shoulders - then he was treading water, but it was sublime.
Cold. It washed across him. He swam happily for a while, but the sun still affected him. He was foolish — he was drifting, and the current swept him further, further, further still, until —
it was so cold. Everything so heavy. He was so tired and the shore, it was -- it was gone.
The waves were singing to him. A jolly old song with so many voices — they were familiar as they rolled in, but they filled his head with brine so thoroughly that the song became nothing — he, became nothing. A headpiece filled with sand.
The waves crashed across his broad back; he couldn't keep it up. He couldn't — but he was trying!
The sea's shadows were waiting. They drifted beneath him, growing bigger and bigger, until he was dwarfed — a speck in the great sea —
And the whale came up, and the whale went down, and Dubloon was gone.
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the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea. - by Dubloon - July 26, 2018, 11:27 PM