Contributor: Shannon Yule
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The skies were grey, the sea was rough, all in all it was perfect weather. Perfect weather for John McCook, captain of a small fishing boat named Indigo Rose. He was out looking for his latest catch, Tuna; he wasn’t after anything record breaking, just something big enough to sell to support himself. He wasn’t going to lie to himself though, he was out for more than just fishing; he was out because the ocean was the only place that he felt at home. He had never really felt right ever since his wife had died three years ago.
It was a normal day, just like any other, he was home from fishing, and his wife was in the kitchen making dinner. He had just kicked back and turned the television on when he heard a huge crash from the kitchen. He ran into the kitchen and found his wife unconscious and on the floor. He shook her and called her name, but she was already gone.
She had died of heart failure, it was a disorder that she’d had since birth and it was just a random act of fate. That was the real reason he was out fishing, because home was too painful of a place to be.
The sky started getting darker, and the sea started getting choppier, causing the boat to pitch.
“Just my luck” he sighed, irritated as he began to pack his equipment up.
He went into his cabin, starting the engine, well, attempting to. No matter how much he tried, the engine was dead. Dead like his wife, and, if the storm kept getting worse, possibly dead like him.
The minutes had melted into hours, the ship violently pitching in storm; it was a miracle it wasn’t at the bottom of the sea by now. He clung to the nearest thing that he could, the safety vest hanging on the wall, his wife’s vest that she used to wear all the time.
Suddenly, light broke through the clouds and shone through the windows of the cabin, the sea calmed to a gentle rolling pitch.
He stepped out onto the deck, the warm sun hitting his skin, feeling the crisp air of the sea. It was so calm. But he could see that he was merely in the eye of the storm, and it was a small one at that. A terrifying wall of storms surrounded this small piece of peacefulness, and they were quickly approaching his small vessel.
He looked up into the sky, at the sun and smiled at the warmth on his skin. He could feel his wife in the sun’s warmth; see her in its glow. He was tired of missing her, tired of feeling the pain of separation.
He wanted to be with her again.
Determined, he returned to his cabin, steering the ship towards the dark wall ahead of him. He knew what he was doing was suicidal, and that was the plan.
As he plunged headfirst into the roaring winds of the hurricane he knew that his ship, his body, would both end up on the ocean floor, but his spirit would be with his wife again. This time, however, it would be for good.
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Shannon Bower-Yule is currently a student at Full Sail University working on her Masters in Creative Writing for Entertainment.
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The skies were grey, the sea was rough, all in all it was perfect weather. Perfect weather for John McCook, captain of a small fishing boat named Indigo Rose. He was out looking for his latest catch, Tuna; he wasn’t after anything record breaking, just something big enough to sell to support himself. He wasn’t going to lie to himself though, he was out for more than just fishing; he was out because the ocean was the only place that he felt at home. He had never really felt right ever since his wife had died three years ago.
It was a normal day, just like any other, he was home from fishing, and his wife was in the kitchen making dinner. He had just kicked back and turned the television on when he heard a huge crash from the kitchen. He ran into the kitchen and found his wife unconscious and on the floor. He shook her and called her name, but she was already gone.
She had died of heart failure, it was a disorder that she’d had since birth and it was just a random act of fate. That was the real reason he was out fishing, because home was too painful of a place to be.
The sky started getting darker, and the sea started getting choppier, causing the boat to pitch.
“Just my luck” he sighed, irritated as he began to pack his equipment up.
He went into his cabin, starting the engine, well, attempting to. No matter how much he tried, the engine was dead. Dead like his wife, and, if the storm kept getting worse, possibly dead like him.
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The minutes had melted into hours, the ship violently pitching in storm; it was a miracle it wasn’t at the bottom of the sea by now. He clung to the nearest thing that he could, the safety vest hanging on the wall, his wife’s vest that she used to wear all the time.
Suddenly, light broke through the clouds and shone through the windows of the cabin, the sea calmed to a gentle rolling pitch.
He stepped out onto the deck, the warm sun hitting his skin, feeling the crisp air of the sea. It was so calm. But he could see that he was merely in the eye of the storm, and it was a small one at that. A terrifying wall of storms surrounded this small piece of peacefulness, and they were quickly approaching his small vessel.
He looked up into the sky, at the sun and smiled at the warmth on his skin. He could feel his wife in the sun’s warmth; see her in its glow. He was tired of missing her, tired of feeling the pain of separation.
He wanted to be with her again.
Determined, he returned to his cabin, steering the ship towards the dark wall ahead of him. He knew what he was doing was suicidal, and that was the plan.
As he plunged headfirst into the roaring winds of the hurricane he knew that his ship, his body, would both end up on the ocean floor, but his spirit would be with his wife again. This time, however, it would be for good.
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Shannon Bower-Yule is currently a student at Full Sail University working on her Masters in Creative Writing for Entertainment.
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Shannon Yule
