The boat pitches forward and the contents of my bag spill open on the soaked deck. GREAT, just great now the calculations I’ve been working on for the past hour are probably disintegrated.The sky screams with me and flashes in a strobe sequence, momentarily exposing my lost possessions. Just as I’ve snatched my scribbled on papers and too expensive graphing calculator, a voice fights through the storm.
“Where have you been Joseiah?” his voice thunders playfully.
“The cabin you imbecile. Oh wait that was right until you called me up into this!”
Joseph gets on my nerves all the time but this is different. He told me that we would be going on a calm bro trip, sailing across the South Pacific.This idiot decided to go sailing in the worst weather ever, on purpose. Now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere. So to say he’s getting on my nerves is an absolute understatement. I was about ready to strangle him while I was trying to graph coordinates (and ruminate on this fact) in the cabin.Then he came in screaming bloody murder saying I had to come outside and help him. But all he wanted me to see was this.The sheer awesomeness of nature, of a beautiful storm that will promptly kill us.
Joseph has always been a hopeless Romantic. Loving the sublime effect of nature, preferring to use his heart over science. He howls into the sky and staggers like a drunken fool heading to the railing of the boat where my bag has slid.
“-only one more chance!” his voice fragments into the wind.
“What are you-”
The boat pitches once more and he loses his footing for only a moment and is thrown off the boat. I’m frozen in place and the roar of the storm is silent.I can’t think, can’t move. Reality crashes into me, he's gone. I shouldn’t have- only he knew how to sail a boat.
Second piece from Writers Craft. Had to write off a prompt and word limit, its a bit rough ik but it was sorta fun.