Day 5: oars
Day 5: oars
We rowed for what felt like days. They’d cast us adrift from our pirate ship, without food or water, miles from land. Again and again the swell of the ocean caught us like a giant hand, lifted us high and tossed us down with a stomach-turning lurch. The wind-driven spray lashed our faces and stung our eyes. Our hands cracked and chaffed form the rowing, and we ripped our shirts to bind them against splinters. Our arms and backs and shoulders ached from fatigue, but we rowed on as the sun sank lower until it sat like a great orange balloon on the horizon, never pausing, hoping that by sheer dumb luck we’d strike land …
… or we would have, if Mum hadn’t made us come in for tea.
~130 words~