I'm in my little sailboat. It rocks gently under the robin-egg blue sky. The blue-green water glistened under the butter yellow sun. I'm fishing for the slippery trout. I reach into a bag and pull out a peanut-butter sandwich. I start to get drowsy; the boat acting like a cradle. My eyes slowly close.
I wake up. I really shouldn't have been here so long. It's dangerous. Especially for someone who hasn't been swimming in ten years. Then I felt something wet. My heart beat faster and panic dug it's claws into my heart, refusing to loosen it's strangling grip. The boat was going to sink.
I hurriedly scooped the water that was flowing into the sailboat with a dented bucket. But I knew I wouldn't be able to save my poor little sailboat, so I am forced to abandon it. Jumping out of the boat, I barely remember to grab a neon orange life jacket and slip it on.
I am bobbing up in down, stranded in the middle of a lake where no one will find me. I quickly ascess the situation. I need to get to land which is about 2 miles away at least. The temperature is dropping rapidly as the sun descends. Being in danger of hypothermia, I can barely swallow my hysterical panic and anxiety. But I push all the negative thoughts from my head and start swimming.
In four hours I finally get to shore, more dead than alive. But, I guess it's good that I'm not dead completely.
No comments:
Post a Comment