Failure
I am a wreck.
At sea for a month, caught in the angry clutches of a doldrum, I’ve been vainly chasing mirages on a distant horizon. Wasting time waiting for the wind and going nowhere, time began to speed up, and there was a sharp taste on the air. I could only watch in horrified fascination as the sky began to darken and the waters to churn. My little vessel bore the storm as best she could, but she was no match for the fury of the sea, and soon she was torn asunder. Thrown from my craft, I struggled against the raging ocean, grasping for anything to cling to as the currents threatened to drag me to the depths. I cried out, but no one would throw me a line.
Now I think I've finally washed up on the shore, shattered and half buried in the sand, fighting to catch my breath. The storm's beginning to break; ragged clouds drifting off into the distance, the soft rhythmic pounding of waves on a calm sea. Dawn bleeds through the veil, and everything is still in the pale morning light .
I’m beginning to feel as if it will all be alright. I guess sometimes Failure Is the Only Option.