The Endless Sea

Suddenly the raging storms had ended, and the dark clouds moved to reveal the shining sun behind them. Sitting on top of the now gentle waves was the collection of torn up wood and metal that now only vaguely resembled a boat.

Deb, the owner of the wreckage, surveyed what was left of her old ship. She quickly determined her ship was dead in the water, and with no one around for miles her chances of getting home seemed slim. Pulling parts of the sail that had fallen into the water, Deb looked to see if there was any way the sail could be salvaged.

As expected the sail had holes in it the size of Deb’s fist, so the sail was useless. The boat motor was slowly floating away from the wreckage, the deck of the ship torn to the point where Deb could see the carpeted floor below deck, and the whole frame of the ship creaked like it would fall apart at any second.

It was nothing short of a miracle that the boat didn’t sink immediately. “Mom must be looking out for me,” Deb said to herself while attempting to step lightly across the broken deck. When her mother died, Deb was given the boat that her mother spent her younger days traveling the world on.

Deb had immediately followed in her mother’s footsteps, drawing every location she wanted to travel on a large map. That map was now lying on top of a waterlogged carpet in the cabin of the ship. Deb began her journey wanting to visit England, but halfway across the ocean, Deb was attacked by a freak storm. The storm violently tore at the ship and did it’s best to throw Deb off into the waves. Deb was tenacious if nothing else and used everything she had learned from her mother to save the ship and herself.

Deb and the storm eventually called a draw as the storm subsided and Deb was left on her ship, but stranded in the ocean. Sitting down on the one sturdy looking spot left on the deck, Deb was completely calm despite her terrifying situation.

She wondered to herself if her mother had ever been in a situation like hers and what she would have done if she had been. As the gentle waves rocked the boat like a newborn child, Deb whispered to herself, as if to keep the sea from hearing her, “At least the ocean looks pretty.”

– Matthew Brosche

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