The Wreck: a short story

When my relationship ends really wrong: I kept it. I wrote fallen apart. We share the same core…and yet…I can do this. Life should have felt like my old self. The consultant said it does not do to think too much! Overgrowth of tissue of trolling continues. Thoughts raced make a difference. Love-wise, I can’t face proper sentences:

“You try and all,” I protest to him.

Just then little words surprise. A giant crimson flag between us,  bleeding shadows beneath our sore eyes. Problem is would he? Nobody would, would they? Nobody could understand the pool of darkness she had become out of the dazzling sun that used to blind us into contentment. “It’s not you, it’s me.” A communication course, I knew we were having words.

You can’t say where you can’t give. You can be obsessed with the red flag. Is anything obvious? A spritz of shine right in front of me. It was a ship’s sail of a year of my reign, or my captivity. Some kind of mistake on this voyage – I found that they were seeing me, though the island itself was not you. You seem like circumference of my little post-relationship. It’s not a little bottle of rum. It seemed that moment I had an epiphany.

Love me! Every girl wants to speak your mind. Cloud of time not looking for the director. I don’t date a practical joke. I realised the sound of heavy breathing, damaging your ashes from a pipe. He had never been a casual relationship, guessed he too sensed the hopeless time actor.

You seem like in her own mind, made her feel very sleepy and too serious. Friends tell me the pleasure of making a daisy chain. Diagnosed with secondary friends. Terrified the accounts given by four friends, believed whoever went to that enchanted island would be destroyed with fire. Often the smallest desperation became the most frustrating.

April 16th – Went up the ladder to the top.

April 22nd – Began to consider means to put this resolve in execution. I was at a great loss.

May 7th – Went to the wreck.

May 8th – Went to the wreck.

May 9th – Went to the wreck.

May 10th – Worked on the wreck.

June 19th – Very ill and shivering, as if the weather had been cold.

June 24th – Much better.

I should certainly one time or other be buried alive. I float, canoe, and am driven out to sea. Reach the shore with difficulty. What I see most however quite makes eye contact. A shore from a shipwreck. It is true these things are fixed in my mind, flat and unfeatured to begin with. Fall asleep. She dreams as she often dreams; so at length, through hope, of the self gone astray from self. Am awakened by a mysterious voice. The top of my cave falling – I plainly see it is a terrible earthquake. We will talk afterwards but we must fight now. I pulled out my knife and cut the red flags. I’d just woken up redemption, as soon as I saw its first reader.

I am him a good while, but at last when I cut your face I understood by him a smile or a grimace? This is possibly the last escape from a wreck thither – a last-minute ticket to somewhere that is not here – guilt-free being entirely unreachable. I have reason to hope. I’d rather be a good person that makes people happy than belonging to the ship that was cast away in sight of my island, as I now called it.

I am teaching and instructing us, leading us into all truth, and making us both willing. I showed him the ruins of our boat, which we lost when we escaped. As to the disputes, wranglings, strife, and contention which have happened, what you achieve in battle is far less important than what kind of human being you are. I always applied myself to fearless, that was before the wreck. If I went the other way, if it were possible, I might get away from this island.

We kept our arms ready, and our eyes about us; but we saw no more wolves. The next day I made another voyage – I married.

And that not either to my disadvantage or dissatisfaction.

 

Image courtesy of Pixabay

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