By S. Wayne Roberts (Rain~Sailboat~Shame)
He called her shame.
The old schooner gracefully glided across the sultry, salty sands of time; its hull sturdy and hollow, its sails whipping in the wind and dancing with God. The once warming sun was now setting in the distance, passively biding ado to the day as it made way for the unforgiving gloom of the night.
The captain of the vessel stood at the ready; his hands steady at the helm, his heart lost to distant shores. As twilight fell upon him, he prepared himself for the worst. The pinks and blues of the cotton candy sunset faded into caramel and gray as thick clouds rolled upon the Heavens.
Like a whip crack in the night, the sky broke into a cold and lonesome rain. The vessel trembled at the weight of God’s fury; the once dancing sails now jerked and tore with the force of the storm. Lost within his own mind, the captain maintained his solid footing planted in the deck and prepared for what may come.
The captain held on tightly in defiance of the storm, though it swiftly became too much for him. The helm ripped from his clutch as the sails arched inward and the vessel rocketed deeper into the storm. The ship began to spin in a funnel-like motion, lifting from the waters below and darting through the air. Through the sky it flew until its glass shelter shattered against a wall and the vessel’s parts scattered across the floor.
***
In a cold, dank basement parlor sat a man; one broken and lost within his thoughts. The room was blanketed with darkness aside from the glow of his small overhead work lamp. His project, the model bottle ship, his shame, laid splayed across the floor, tattered much like he himself. He exchanged that bottle for one smaller and clear; one filled half way with a clear liquid, its missing half serving as but one of the many spirits haunting the poor man’s head.
His tears fell like the salty sands of a life’s hour glass. His love was taken from him too soon; the once flowing sails that lead his sturdy vessel now danced with God, which shattered his existence. There were no more smooth winds and no more sunshine, and that’s why he called her shame.
He called her shame.
The old schooner gracefully glided across the sultry, salty sands of time; its hull sturdy and hollow, its sails whipping in the wind and dancing with God. The once warming sun was now setting in the distance, passively biding ado to the day as it made way for the unforgiving gloom of the night.
The captain of the vessel stood at the ready; his hands steady at the helm, his heart lost to distant shores. As twilight fell upon him, he prepared himself for the worst. The pinks and blues of the cotton candy sunset faded into caramel and gray as thick clouds rolled upon the Heavens.
Like a whip crack in the night, the sky broke into a cold and lonesome rain. The vessel trembled at the weight of God’s fury; the once dancing sails now jerked and tore with the force of the storm. Lost within his own mind, the captain maintained his solid footing planted in the deck and prepared for what may come.
The captain held on tightly in defiance of the storm, though it swiftly became too much for him. The helm ripped from his clutch as the sails arched inward and the vessel rocketed deeper into the storm. The ship began to spin in a funnel-like motion, lifting from the waters below and darting through the air. Through the sky it flew until its glass shelter shattered against a wall and the vessel’s parts scattered across the floor.
***
In a cold, dank basement parlor sat a man; one broken and lost within his thoughts. The room was blanketed with darkness aside from the glow of his small overhead work lamp. His project, the model bottle ship, his shame, laid splayed across the floor, tattered much like he himself. He exchanged that bottle for one smaller and clear; one filled half way with a clear liquid, its missing half serving as but one of the many spirits haunting the poor man’s head.
His tears fell like the salty sands of a life’s hour glass. His love was taken from him too soon; the once flowing sails that lead his sturdy vessel now danced with God, which shattered his existence. There were no more smooth winds and no more sunshine, and that’s why he called her shame.
Encouraging Comments & Anonymous Feedback
Leave uplifting comments or constructive criticism below. What did you like best? What did you like least? To remain anonymous, just put in "Guest" as your name. Return To Short Stories
Leave uplifting comments or constructive criticism below. What did you like best? What did you like least? To remain anonymous, just put in "Guest" as your name. Return To Short Stories
RSS Feed
