SPF: Guiding light

2018 11 November 26th 2017

I could feel myself grabbing the wood that was lining the deck to prevent us falling overboard. The thought briefly flashed through my mind that this was not going to help if the boat capsized in the swell of the ocean. The darkness made it hard for us to see anything and the storm made sure that we kept spiralling around.

The shouts of the crew were drowned out by the noise of the storm and the crashing waves we could hear somewhere nearby. It gave us something else to worry about.

We had reached the point where it looked like everything was going to become lost. Davy Jones was going to claim a few more souls on this dark and stormy night. The crew were not about to give in easily Andrew constantly pulling at sails and wheel alike.

The light shone from nowhere, and a cry of joy erupted from the crew. They thought it was a lighthouse and we were going to get away alive. All I could see was the cliff we were going to meet violently with in the next few seconds.

Maybe the light was being sent to guide us to the next world.

Written for Sunday photo fiction


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