Long is the way, and hard (788 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.11 on 22 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl (View user info) at 2008-06-11 15:18:28 EDT
To be lost at sea is a phrase of three words that hides humanity beneath a layer of sentimentality. No one is ever truly lost. Thousands of yards down, they rot for ever beneath the white crests and stormy sky, never to be returned until the ending of the world. Much like language is used by governments and liars to mask the truth, the symbols of losing someone to a wide, open, unfeeling ocean assuages the broken heart. All that was said about Jesus' punishment was similarly three words: "They crucified him." Under those three words hides shattered tendons and screams.
The water of the earth is a powerful symbol. Many have cried upon seeing the ocean for the first time, those from inland and savage places, where they view how powerful the planet is in compare to their miniscule selves, and are overcome with awe. So the sailor gets broken in, learning and understanding the waters around him, not allowing himself to get lost. Michael was one of these men, a brave heart who was aware of how vast the ocean was, and how deep.
The Jan Mayen Sea was icy, and terrifying at this hour of the winter, and the storm had not even reached its apex. Michael struggled to keep his boat upright, as the fierce wind threw the sea's waters into the Christina, catching Michael in the blast.
To be lost at sea is to abandon hope. When the stormy waters around you finally get too violent, and when the waves crash hard enough to shake your faith from your feet stoically on the deck of the ship up to your proud and bitter head, you have nothing but to await the end and pray for its swiftness. You wonder is it even worth it to fight for life, because to embrace a death by drowning is easy; to fight it is agony. To be lost at sea is to abandon hope of seeing the ones you love. Anyone can have a wife, and most do, but it's rare to have a soul mate. Michael had both in the same person.
Thinking in a catastrophe is discouraged. If your body can't react with instinct, your doom is clear. All Michael could think of was her heart-shaped face.
The boat capsized. The water whose spray had frozen Michael to the core engulfed him as the boat threw him into the depths. It was like a million icy knives in his skin, penetrating every pore and thrusting a pallor onto him. There would be no rescue helicopter in this weather.
Michael cried out to the sky, but God wasn't there. He cried out for his love, hundreds of miles away safe in a house, maybe observing the storm out the window with a racing heart thinking of him. But she was far away, and Michael wouldn't bring her hence even if seeing her once would make the pain of the icy water freezing his very breathe dissipate with the warmness brought on by her touch.
Adrift Michael floated, his life jacket keeping him upright in the toiling sea. He was tossed as if the bursts of sea water were eruptions of the earth, and the prow of his boat rose into the sky, blotting out the strokes of lightning dashing across the vault of the cloudy sky. As the boat plummeted toward the bottom of the sea, Michael's Scottish heart thrust as if to escape its damned owners chest, and Michael was pulled into the suction. All he could think of was her lips on his.
He stopped kicking and sunk beneath the crushing waves. He closed his eyes tight, and the water engulfing him was like being buried alive in a stone tomb. The life jacket drew him up, but the sinking boat drew him downward. Michael felt like he was weightless, lost in space and hovering between life and death. Holding his breath, he felt himself rise, and he broke the crest of the violent waters.
Michael paddled around in a final circumspection, seeing nothing but walls of water spiking into the air, and darkness on every side. Above the sky was black and rain poured down, and the four winds denuded him in frigid air, making his face icy and frozen.
Waves reared up high and crushed him, throwing him deep underwater, and Michael ceased thinking. He went limp, unable to take the profundity of his fate. Even She left his mind. It was as if he was watching a movie of this happening to someone else; he knew it was happening, but it was unreal. And all that could be said days later when the ship failed to dock at Inverness was that the storm had indeed claimed a victim, whose skeleton shall lie on the bottom of the Jan Mayen Sea forever.
She cried every day for six weeks, and longer, but saw him again nightly in her dreams, when she would walk in the park nearby the church hand in hand with him. She even started keeping a dream log to savor every second she could with him, he who was thousands of yards down beneath the surface of the ocean. They could bury no body, but they put up a plaque with Michael's name, and the words "lost at sea."
To be lost at sea is a phrase of three words that hides humanity beneath a layer of sentimentality. No one is ever truly lost. Thousands of yards down, they rot for ever beneath the white crests and stormy sky, never to be returned until the ending of the world.
User Reviews
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2008-06-12 17:44:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by tloshjohnson (user info) at 2008-06-12 17:21:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ax, how about an updated history of Uber. I know those damn things only take you 5 minutes to hash together.
----------------
Haven't been around much since I did the last one, and really no interest in doing that again.
Submitted by tloshjohnson (user info) at 2008-06-12 17:21:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ax, how about an updated history of Uber. I know those damn things only take you 5 minutes to hash together.
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-06-12 12:08:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Have a suck-up +2 because if you become well-known this shitty and pretentious "short story" would probably impress equally pretentious twats who like to think they are "literary experts".
Remember me then, and give me money.
Submitted by PayMeLater (user info) at 2008-06-12 10:14:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Jesus Christ you're a pretentious little twat.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2008-06-12 08:29:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Yarr, not bad, but some of the language was a little OTT, I thought.
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2008-06-12 04:27:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hell yeah. Look for it.
Submitted by woolfe (user info) at 2008-06-12 04:26:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
perkman has got the axlotl alter
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2008-06-12 02:31:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
If by alley you mean that cavernous, moist gash between your legs.
Speaking of which...
Sup.
Submitted by netimportant (user info) at 2008-06-12 01:03:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Long and hard? That's right up my alley.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2008-06-11 23:25:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
wtf are you talking about?
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2008-06-11 21:02:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
STOP.
WHINING.
LIFE IS NOT HARD.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2008-06-11 19:48:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
God damn. I want an autographed copy of your book when you get it published.
Submitted by PepsiCoke (user info) at 2008-06-11 19:08:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:23:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
STFU Perkman, where's the song we should be listening to while we read this?
Submitted by Director (user info) at 2008-06-11 16:52:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked it. The sea can be so unforgiving.
Why do these stories ALWAYS have a spouse, lover, girlfriend/boyfriend left behind in anguish?
WHHHHY?
Why doesn't someone write this same damn thing except that the poor fucker who drowns was a despised son of a bitch and nobody gave a fuck and were glad the bastard was gone and NOBODY put up a plaque with his name; in fact they threw a fucking party, praising the glory of fate in taking such a sunuvabitch.
That would, somehow, be even sadder than the moaning wife. I mean, that bitch will get over it and remarry eventually. It's all tea and roses for her. The guy that drowned is FUCKING DEAD.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2008-06-11 16:39:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by X54 (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:53:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"To be lost at sea is a phrase of three words that hides humanity beneath a layer of sentimentality. No one is ever truly lost. Thousands of yards down, they rot for ever beneath the white crests and stormy sky, never to be returned until the ending of the world."
Well, if that's not lost then I'm hard pressed to say what is.
IMHO, this would be better if the angst was turned down a notch.
------
Sorry, I avoided teenage angst for the last 5 years and am just getting it now. I need to enjoy it.
Submitted by experima (user info) at 2008-06-11 16:10:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by X54 (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:53:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"To be lost at sea is a phrase of three words that hides humanity beneath a layer of sentimentality. No one is ever truly lost. Thousands of yards down, they rot for ever beneath the white crests and stormy sky, never to be returned until the ending of the world."
Well, if that's not lost then I'm hard pressed to say what is.
IMHO, this would be better if the angst was turned down a notch.
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:39:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Spot the extra letter. You can have it, if you like, I've got lots. Aaaaaaaa.. See?
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:38:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Occasionally clumsy, but overall very good and a you get a huge portion of gratitude and warm fuzzies from me for writing something that didn't leech at my will to live and my belief in humankind.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:27:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
haha stfu Method...
if you really want to try The words "best friend" become redefined by Chiodos
Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:25:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-06-11 15:23:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
STFU Perkman, where's the song we should be listening to while we read this?