All the way to the horizon in the last light, the sea was just degrees of gray, rolling and frothy on the surface. From the cockpit of a small white sloop she was thirty five feet long the waves looked like hills coming up from behind, and most of the crew preferred not to glance at them.
Running under shortened sails in front of the northeaster, the boat rocked one way, gave a thump, and then it rolled the order. The post and pans in the galley clanged.
A six-pack of beer, which someone had forgotten to stow away, slid back and forth across the cabin floor, over and over again.Sometime late thet night, one of the crew raised a voice against the wind and asked, what are we trying to prove?.
No comments:
Post a Comment