The Silent Sea
Lost at sea, a man finds love, death and life everlasting.
My skin was on fire when our plane fell from the sky.
The rescue team never came for us.
And had they, they would find only pieces: mangled steel, dismembered hands and legs, soaked passports, food trays, may be a stuffed giraffe.
The ocean I fell into was vast and without limits.
I drifted for weeks, years, may be more.
I was angry this entire time. Angry with myself for boarding that doomed flight, angry with the bastards for not finding me, angry at the sea in which I now lived…angry with her.
Her. As my plane went down and the hot fire swallowed me, I remembered wanting to tell her that courtship involves politics and intrigue; that in order to attain an everlasting love, we must extinguish our desire to possess the other. I remembered wanting to tell her this at a moment of true inspiration. But before I could, I bought a ticket and well, you know the rest.
After I fell into the sea, time became a mystery. After my plane fell out of the sky, I became trapped in an immovable stillness. I heard nothing, felt nothing. There was only the sea and a wounded silence between us.
But lately, I have stopped being angry.
I like to remember her still.
Now as I drift over the big blue sea, I sometimes hear her sing.
