After years and years they were on their way. Amy and Marcus were to live their dream. House and cars were sold. Burning midnight oil as paralegals had paid off.
Amy took the helm:
“Barbados next”, her hair danced with the wind.
Marcus raised the heavy cotton sails, dyed with tannin. Everything was genuine from deck to masts.
“Tenacity of purpose” moved gently with the waves. They were on the way, soon to leave the docks.
Marcus felt like he’d never felt before; Amy felt the same:
“Let’s sell the boat”, Amy said as Marcus puked.
I focused on the sail ship leaving the harbor and thought about the energy you might put into unrealistic dreams. You probably shouldn’t sail around the world if you are too prone to being seasick.
Rochelle selects a picture each week for us to write a 100 word story on, and we all do our best. Friday Fictioneers have fostered many great writers, and who knows maybe someday I will manage to write something longer than 100 words.
March 29, 2017