Chuck lifted his hand over his forehead to block out the rays from the sun.The crimson sunset was absolutely beautifull;stretched across the horizontal sea,it dyed the sky a reddish orange,and the streams of clouds a bright pink.He sat down on the small wooden platform he called a seat,and started to row back towards shore.The catch was reasonable today,20 fish exact;and one small fish that he tossed back into the sea.It would have been considered meagre to most people,but it filled his boat's empty hull to the brim,leaving him a tight but sufficient space to roam about to toss the net into the sea.Besides,the boat was of sentimental value,it had drifted up to him as he was on the beach;overwhelmed with agony.After having run away from the town,after having made a statement,on how ironic it was that they called this the golden age,yet all they have done is thrown infectious and addictive dreams into their townsfolk;the mining of metal,the burning of meadows.All for the selfish wants of its people.
And so he sat there,upon a rocky ridge of a mild cliff,watching the sunset;letting his tears bask in the sun until they dried.It was then that he found,a boat,his comfort,his motivation,his new provider.Within the boat he found an old net,and a stick.The stick meant nothing to him,so he threw it away.But now he was missing an oar.He fashioned one out of a piece of driftwood;it was light,and allowed for easy retrieval should the oar fall overboard.He was pleased with his work.
He hurled the net-load of fish onto the sand.He bound the boat to the rocky edges of stray rock.Pulling his homemade rope tight,he tied a knot and set off to his hut;it was near enough,but the climb up the sand could prove painfull if not wary of the rough stones and sharp shells there.he slammed the door open and walked in.He took a moment to gaze at his "home-made"hut once more;made of wooden branches,held togather with flax.He was smart enough to craft the fire place out of rock and mud,and the chimney rose above the roof of palm leaves.The fire place brilliantly warmed the cosy room with great efficienty.He flung his catch to the side and slammed himself back onto his bed;fits two,also crafted by hand,but by many poles of bamboo and more flax.His mattress was made of large cloth bags stuffed with dried grass.It was cosy,but it was unsightly.As usual,he left the side nearer to the wall empty,confining himself to only the edge.He stared at the empty space,and a pain burned in his heart;his empty heart.His vision faded as he slowly sunk into sleep.
He was falling,falling off his boat,into the stormy sea.The black waves engulfed him.His voice;he couldn't even hear his screams.His eyes stung.He was sinking,into the water.The dark waters;the cold waters.Bang!!!He fell off his bed,hitting the floor squarely on his back.he gazed at the roof,where the streaks of light shone through.Pulling himself up,he fetched his net,and set off to the sea once more.The sea greeted him with a fresh spray of salt water in his eyes...-to be continued
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