The high, whistling winds cut through my t-shirt. Why did I wear shorts today? I don’t even like shorts. It’s so cold. It’s so cold and there’s no hope of warmth. On the shore it didn’t seem so cold. But out here — yikes. I want to curl up in a sail and stick my feet in hot soup and no I don’t want any beer! Nothing cold!
“It’s amazing, isn’t it,” This is Matt talking. He had worn a sweater. He’s the reason we’re on this sailboat in the first place, trying to catch a salmon, or a fish of any kind. This was his anniversary present. For me.
“Yeah.” I say. He’s not wrong. The scenery is — of course — stunning. Everything’s perfect blue just like my skin and tongue and it’s so bright I think my retinas are burning. It is amazing, the fact that I’ll probably get a sunburn and freeze to death. That sounds like some outer space shit. So yes, wow, amazing.
“You okay?” He asks. Ugh. Great. Now I’m the problem child. The truth = I want him to give me all of his clothes so I can wear them and take a nap out of vision of the eye that never sleeps aka the sun.
This is part of The Exquisite Corpse, a daily writing challenge.