The sky was cloudless and empty. The sea calm, now and like a mirror. The life boat barely moved in the stillness. It was no longer bobbing has it had done earlier. The sun shone hotly down quickly evaporating the seawater that had splashed in during the stormy night.and it quickly dried the torn clothing on the lone reclining occupant. The lone occupant stirred indicating that he was still alive to see one more dawn on this seeming empty ocean. He raised himself to a sitting position drawing the ball cap from under his body and slipping it firmly on to his head, The cap had once been a dark blue but the sun and salt water had bleached it into a light purple.
The man surveyed the sea and the horizon and seeing nothing of note laid back onto the floor of the motionless craft. The man opened his parched lips and uttered first a curse and then a prayer. It was his seventh day drifting aimlessly hoping vainly for some vessel or aircraft to see him and hopefully provide rescue before he died.
The meager ration of food and water were both long expended. His body was dehydrating rapidly and he knew that if he did not have too much more time. He rose to his knees and moved slowly to check the sea anchor which kept him from flipping over during storms like last night and also held him close to his position so if a rescue vessel was seeking him they would no where to search.
From habit and the need to do something he lowered his fishing line back into the still water. He didn't think there was much possibility of it doing any good. His "bait" consisted of a tattered piece of cloth torn from his frayed shorts. The only fish that he had seen was on the third day when a pair of gray fins had ominously circled his life boat for about ten minutes. Ten very frightening minutes. What would he do if he hooked a fish? Did he have enough strength to haul it in? The next question was could he cut it with the small pocketknife he had. The final question would be if he could manage to eat it and keep it down. He was aware that it would provide a source of moisture. Moisture the very thought almost caused him to salivate. But he did not have the moisture for even that. He had even used his own bodily waste to attempt to survive longer.
Look there. Something a far ways off. Was that smudge on the horizon possibly a ship or was it another ghost image, a mirage, a figment of his parched existence, a strange quirk of his damages mind. He turned slightly so to peer at the object. As he did he felt his body ache It ached partly because of the cramped existence in the small life raft and partly because of the burnt and cracked skin on his arms and face. He had mistakenly splashed salt water on his burnt flesh a couple of days ago in the hope of cooling his body. The pain had been almost unbearable. He wished he could stand up and wave is case that smudge was really a ship but his body was too weak and if he should happen to fall into the water he knew he would not have been able to swim.
He prayed to god that some lookout with a keen eye would spot him and the ship would alter course and pick him up. If it really was a ship.
He knew he was near the end. His mind went to his family and those he loved. He could picture his mom working in the kitchen, her hands and apron dusted with flour as she laboured to create the delicious meals and desserts that always made his mouth water. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then his thought went to his dad. He was in the garage moving objects from one place to another, never ever cleaning up and getting rid of the clutter but being busy and happy. He hugged his dad. Next he imagined his little sister Susie who was trying desperately to look like a woman with her use of too much makeup and high heels. She was a good kid. She was just trying to grow up too fast. He rubbed her head and just smiled. Finally he thought of Jo-Anne. He regretted never making their love official. He deeply loved her. In his mind he could picture their last time together. It had been more loving, affectionate than it had been intimate. So much to say to her and yet he was lost for the right words and correct way to express how deeply he felt. Words, emotions that he felt that now she would never know. Tears would have formed in his eyes but there was not enough moisture in his dry and shrived body.
His mind now quickly spiraled away from the living towards the dead. He was now totally resigned to the fact of his imminent death. He had made his peace with his Maker. It was all over now…..Just to wait….For the end.
"I think he's still alive".
"We'll send down the sling and hoist him aboard"
He feebly opened his eyes to see a man standing over him and the black side of the ship. They seemed to be lowering a large piece of canvas. The man helped to ease his sun-dried body onto the canvas.and he felt himself being lifted. Lifted, hoisted by the crane aboard the ship. Only then did it come to him. HE WAS RESCUED!!
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