Drabble: Siren's Song
Haha, I'd forgotten about writing this until I was looking for something else I'd written and came across it again. I'd written it about a local news story. More information has come out about the story so it is definitely fiction now.
***
He paused, breathed deeply, and glanced at the gnarled trees growing on the rocky shore. He resisted the urge to peek back at the belly of the boat bobbing in the water like a dark dead goldfish. Perhaps it had sunk anyway.
He adjusted his gun belt and rolled onto his back. His arms windmilled slowly, numb fingers and numbing hands and arms dragging through the water. The current tugged and sucked at him like a siren's song.
Still, he kept moving. Shore had never seemed that far away. He was strong. He was young. He could do this. He had thought he could do this. Shore had not seemed far away when he and Dave were bobbing with the boat loaming like a hill behind them. He had felt strong, full of energy. Why shouldn't he take advantage of his strength, youth, and energy and swim to shore? Surely that was better than floating beside the boat slowly freezing. Surely he was going to beach his soggy and stiff body on the rocky shore where the crippled trees grew soon.
Out among the waves with nothing but his soaked clothes his energy was fading. He wished Dave was with him. He probably wouldn't say anything right now as tired as he is, but it would be nice to not be alone.
He's resting on his back, body no longer painful from the icy temperatures of the water, clothes rippling around him when the under toe catches the heel of his boot and he slips with a bloop into the water. He forgets about the six pack Dave and he were going to drink tonight and the tickets he's got secreted in his closet for his brother's twenty third birthday in several weeks.
***
He paused, breathed deeply, and glanced at the gnarled trees growing on the rocky shore. He resisted the urge to peek back at the belly of the boat bobbing in the water like a dark dead goldfish. Perhaps it had sunk anyway.
He adjusted his gun belt and rolled onto his back. His arms windmilled slowly, numb fingers and numbing hands and arms dragging through the water. The current tugged and sucked at him like a siren's song.
Still, he kept moving. Shore had never seemed that far away. He was strong. He was young. He could do this. He had thought he could do this. Shore had not seemed far away when he and Dave were bobbing with the boat loaming like a hill behind them. He had felt strong, full of energy. Why shouldn't he take advantage of his strength, youth, and energy and swim to shore? Surely that was better than floating beside the boat slowly freezing. Surely he was going to beach his soggy and stiff body on the rocky shore where the crippled trees grew soon.
Out among the waves with nothing but his soaked clothes his energy was fading. He wished Dave was with him. He probably wouldn't say anything right now as tired as he is, but it would be nice to not be alone.
He's resting on his back, body no longer painful from the icy temperatures of the water, clothes rippling around him when the under toe catches the heel of his boot and he slips with a bloop into the water. He forgets about the six pack Dave and he were going to drink tonight and the tickets he's got secreted in his closet for his brother's twenty third birthday in several weeks.