The water’s cold surface fringe

Writing was a little quiet (lost) this weekend, even though about a dozen pieces of writing came out, some with a darker theme like below, and others with a lighter feel like the one that will be above. They did not seem to be working out, so here they are anyway.

 

Just places where great waters and grand mountains meet

Just places where great waters and grand mountains meet

The water’s cold surface fringe…

Standing at the edge, the wind has dropped from the sails in a place where the ocean lies dead calm. No soul is left aboard but he, as a squall builds astern, rising and riving thunderheads, billowing higher and higher than any mountain upon the lands. Here indeed is a strange place, for the storm comes no closer, and does not depart, but fills all vision of the surround, like a huge vortex waiting to collapse in cataclysmic catastrophe. But still, he stands there far out on the motionless prow, alone, and uninvited by the storm, or sea, for why such a gathering.

He does not seek no tempest, no hurricane, nor typhoon, or cyclone, so he waits, biding his time as he makes for the topsail. Here he finds there are no answers, this shrinking world, there dwells no company, trapped in the barrel of no escape. Walking aloft, to the starboard end of the yardarm, he looks around one last time, then leaps feet first, waiting for the salt water to swallow him whole, without a whisper, nor a word in parting, sinking deep below the waterline. Till a time where conciseness fades to black, and the world is all still about him in his watery departure to the living….

But not quiet, deep below he is taken, snatched from his cold death, to wake in a dark world, to wake in darkness’s dull after glow. Unsure, he stands, and then falls again, hard jagged rocks tear into his flesh, but soon he forgets, forgets everything in the darkness, and for many moments he remains there. For in darkness there is no time, just the darkness, and thought, moments of pondering the lost, moments of pondering not giving, not sharing,  not living, just existing.

But he has not given up, for as the moments pass, soon his eyes can see all that the darkness holds in this unknown light of difference. Again he stands, and begins to walk an unknown direction, for in darkness everywhere leads somewhere, soon he is running. Without tiredness or hunger, he is soon sprinting through the darkness, faster and faster with each moment, until…

His body breaks the super tension of the saltwater’s surface, oxygen fills his lungs, eyes, blurred vision from the darkness. Four arms, grasp, and pluck him from the water’s cold surface fringe….

7 responses to “The water’s cold surface fringe

  1. Pingback: Short stories update | Sean Bidd·

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