Man Overboard
Disclaimer:
Every once in a great while, I just feel like writing something both unpleasant and beautiful. I decided to share one such brief unpleasantness with all of you. Bear two things in mind: Its only meaning is what you bring to it, and it is short and will be over soon.
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It moved too quickly. The rope was around my ankle, and the weight at the other end pulled me over. Down beneath the sea I fell, clawing at the crushing cords. Fingers feverishly searched my pant-leg until they found the familiar handle of my knife, then turned their energy to the work of cutting the dead weight free. The relief of the liberation was short lived. I no longer knew which direction was up.
I saw lights above and below. I knew not which to trust. The ones below flickered with the frailty of old regret, wisdom, and ghosts. The lights above pulsed with ferocty and power, then faded, then lived again in brilliance. I glanced again at the ancient lights below in time to see a lethe frame slide beneath me, teeth flashing in the glare of the lights above.
My body thrust me upward. It struggled in the brine, clawing towards the pounding, throbbing lights above. Please, God, let this be the right direction. Let me be close to a life boat!
I reached a rippling membrane that stretched across the bursting lights. My hand pressed against it, and it passed through it into the cold, empty beyond. Oh, God, no. This was the wrong direction.
My sight started to fade. I had no time. Either I broke through to the nothing beyond, or turn back towards the spectral glow and waiting teeth.
I lunged towards the undulating membrane.
I erupted into a world where space rested between falling drops of water. I gasped, and emptiness filled my lungs. I could not swim, but only thrash about in the portal I had made. A ribbon of light tore apart the black, bringing with it a crashing roar.
My senses returned to me. Thank God. This was the surface. I had chosen the right direction.
I drifted in the storm, completely helpless. My eyes caught the husk of my ship, ablaze on the waves beyond. One minute it was in a valley, the next high atop a mountain peak. The water grew thick around my weak limbs. My strength would not return me to my vessel. There was nothing I could do.
The burning frame of the ship crumbled under the power of the waves. Men and women, like burning seraphim before God, danced from the deck in to the sea. Whatever screams I might have heard were stifled by the wind and the thunder and the perverse beauty of the scene. The fiery wreck dropped again in to a valley of water. It did not summit the wave's peak when it crested the next moment. Nothing remained of it but the fire's afterimage on my retina.
The lights below pulsed, and the lights above answered. The water between became clear in the fading illumination, disclosing the presence of teeth. The weight of my body grew too much for my arms and legs.
No. This is wrong. I must have gone in the wrong direction.
My eyes closed. My mouth opened. Water filled my lungs. My eyes opened to the lights below surrounding me and a flash of teeth before me.
Every once in a great while, I just feel like writing something both unpleasant and beautiful. I decided to share one such brief unpleasantness with all of you. Bear two things in mind: Its only meaning is what you bring to it, and it is short and will be over soon.
------------
It moved too quickly. The rope was around my ankle, and the weight at the other end pulled me over. Down beneath the sea I fell, clawing at the crushing cords. Fingers feverishly searched my pant-leg until they found the familiar handle of my knife, then turned their energy to the work of cutting the dead weight free. The relief of the liberation was short lived. I no longer knew which direction was up.
I saw lights above and below. I knew not which to trust. The ones below flickered with the frailty of old regret, wisdom, and ghosts. The lights above pulsed with ferocty and power, then faded, then lived again in brilliance. I glanced again at the ancient lights below in time to see a lethe frame slide beneath me, teeth flashing in the glare of the lights above.
My body thrust me upward. It struggled in the brine, clawing towards the pounding, throbbing lights above. Please, God, let this be the right direction. Let me be close to a life boat!
I reached a rippling membrane that stretched across the bursting lights. My hand pressed against it, and it passed through it into the cold, empty beyond. Oh, God, no. This was the wrong direction.
My sight started to fade. I had no time. Either I broke through to the nothing beyond, or turn back towards the spectral glow and waiting teeth.
I lunged towards the undulating membrane.
I erupted into a world where space rested between falling drops of water. I gasped, and emptiness filled my lungs. I could not swim, but only thrash about in the portal I had made. A ribbon of light tore apart the black, bringing with it a crashing roar.
My senses returned to me. Thank God. This was the surface. I had chosen the right direction.
I drifted in the storm, completely helpless. My eyes caught the husk of my ship, ablaze on the waves beyond. One minute it was in a valley, the next high atop a mountain peak. The water grew thick around my weak limbs. My strength would not return me to my vessel. There was nothing I could do.
The burning frame of the ship crumbled under the power of the waves. Men and women, like burning seraphim before God, danced from the deck in to the sea. Whatever screams I might have heard were stifled by the wind and the thunder and the perverse beauty of the scene. The fiery wreck dropped again in to a valley of water. It did not summit the wave's peak when it crested the next moment. Nothing remained of it but the fire's afterimage on my retina.
The lights below pulsed, and the lights above answered. The water between became clear in the fading illumination, disclosing the presence of teeth. The weight of my body grew too much for my arms and legs.
No. This is wrong. I must have gone in the wrong direction.
My eyes closed. My mouth opened. Water filled my lungs. My eyes opened to the lights below surrounding me and a flash of teeth before me.
posted by Raoul The Destroyer at 12:35 AM
8 Comments:
I like it. Write a book!
Thanks! I will (I hope)!
Huh? I don't get it.
Uh, watching "Titanic" again?
YM
"Titanic"?
Come on, Mom. You know me better than that.
Hey, I thought it was really well written and you should write a book.
Thanks, K-Loh! I really appreciate that! :)
And I have been chewing on a few story ideas for a while. Nothing super solid yet... but something is cooking underneath the surface. ;)
there is always beauty underneath the surface. too few are willing to dig however, for fear of the dirt that must be thrown. it is reassuring that there are those who chose to dig anyway. continue to discover beauty, Raoul, you always find it.
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