A short, non-fic story.
by, 19th June 2010 at 03:24 PM (312 Views)
I wrote this about a week ago - it's not my first short story or anything, just the first one that I thought was good enough (or one I'm confident enough in) to share. A couple of notes:
I'm sixteen, aspiring author of fiction, the inspiration for this short (I hope to make it a full work though) came primarily from Sam Savage's Firmin, and when reading (if you read), take note, the narrator's species is somewhat subtle, though blatantly explained...critique, enjoy, etc...thanks
We start to hit rough waters. The crew was shouting, but their small and pathetic voices were drowned out by the roaring sound of crashing waves and relentless raindrops. The sky felt like it was falling on us in an attempt to teach us a lesson: we were at the mercy of it and its cohort – the sea. The boat was sturdy though and held its ground, however pathetically. It didn’t falter, but it didn’t do much else either. I don’t know what I was thinking. I ventured up a makeshift pathway of strained rope and beaten boxes to sit on port. It was at that point, while I meticulously maintained my balance in the midst of the tumultuous storm that I saw a fluke glide seamlessly up from the depths of the swollen sea. It gracefully preformed its arc; a sight as inspirational as anything I can fathom, and being such a small, pathetic creature that had largely, compared to the people I lived amongst, lived a terribly unimportant life, I can fathom a lot of things. But the sight of the whale’s fluke amid this juggernaut storm just overtook my mind.
It was at the occurrence of this rare sighting that I lost touch of reality, but shook hands with my demise. While before I was somehow holding on to the portside railing, I was now being flung off the ship into the wrathful ocean, which was giving a terribly ostentatious showing of its tremendous power. I was so small; so powerless I had to ask myself in the few moments that existed before I was dragged under: Is this fair?
Sadly, there was no time for an answer – the ocean quite plainly is not a very loquacious being, and it swept me down into its blue belly. It was in the stomach of the ocean that I saw the whale whose tail I had just seen above gliding away through the dark, murky ocean. It was a faint image; the cetacean’s outline was mostly what I could make out and as I saw the creature that was so formidable, so powerful that it could overcome that which even the humans had trouble taming, I remembered what I was – Edgar, a despised being of a most infestatious race: the rat - and once more, I asked myself: Is this fair?
Again, there was no time for an answer. I was being dragged further and further into the sea’s unforgiving depths and it was then that I heard the last thing I would ever hear: the high pitched whine of the whale - as if it was bidding farewell –just before it embarked on another of its long adventures. Then, all that I could feel was the deep, deep water sucking whatever life I had left in me out of me.
©2010 cowboy dan (Al xxxxxxx)
just in case. I'm a paranoid bastard.
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