Always Rolling

There was a breeze. No, not a breeze. A wind. Or maybe it was something in between a breeze and being windy. Is there such a thing? If there wasn’t, there should be. The gusts created noises that crashed all around me. I swayed back and forth on my back, listening to it.

My eyes were closed and I could hear it. The steady swoosh sound rustling through the sails. It was steady and kept me moving. Always moving, always rolling. It kept me sailing. It had me on course. It usually did.

I let my hand fall gently from the hammock. It brushed against a hard, broken surface. It moved back and forth with the movements of the ship. I’d swing to the left. Then sway to the right. The tips of my fingers sliding along with each gentle motion.

Then a jolt. The swaying turned violent. I was thrown onto the floor. My eyes flew open. I grasped for my sword. Someone had stowed away on my ship! I turn and swung blindly but they fled. I could hear the laughing up above. I charged in pursuit.

The main deck of my ship was empty save for my old black lab Sarge. He blinked in the sun at me. His tail flopped once. Twice. He was my first mate. I ran over and asked him where the intruder went. He cocked his head. I demanded an answer. He licked my face as my blonde hair blew in the wind. He wasn’t the best first mate I had. Then I heard it. A call from the crow’s nest.

“James,” she cried. “Get in here and wash your hands!” I blinked and the ocean and my ship fell away. The intruder stood in a glass door way. It was my brother, Samuel. He was sticking his tongue out and giving me the L sign on his head. I sighed.

Overhead, a breeze. No, not a breeze. A wind. It was definitely something in between. I watched as it rustled through the green leaves in the trees above me. I walked over to my hammock and watched it sway back and forth. There should really be a word for something that was not a breeze but not quite windy. I threw my sword and watched as Sarge chased the stick. I picked up my toys that were in the rocks. My mom yelled from the second window to hurry up, a storm was rolling in.

I looked back to the sky. It was starting to get dark. But what else was new? There was always something rolling in. Maybe it was rival pirates. Or a swarm of orcs. Maybe it was just a boulder rolling down a cliff to stop me leaving with the treasure. I sighed again and walked back to the house with toys in hand. Tomorrow will be a better day for sailing.

Author: tynoel

Professional writer and blogger. Author of the book A Monstrous Tomorrow.

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