Giant waves crash onto the rocks, filling the tide pools to the brim. There is no room for error in this mission.
I descend into the alcove, water rushing around my feet from the recent wave. I keep my eyes trained on the ocean as I begin to to nimbly weave my way to the location.
Reaching down I grasp the chest's handle and pull. With a wet thunk the rocks give birth to a barnacle encrusted box. My breathing labored I drag it towards the safe spot just out of reach of the largest waves.
Less than a yard from my destination I see a gargantuan swell rolling toward me. My only option was to let go of the chest and sprint to safety. But no, I must continue. I cannot fail again.
The huge wave bore down on me as i dragged the corroded box toward my dry spot. Realizing, too late, that I would not make it.
I scream as the wave hits me knocking my fragile body against the sharp rocks, receding water carrying my blood out to sea.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonesome Rock and other Poems and Shorts
PoetryWhat does a lonely rock think as it sits all alone? What does the last dandelion do as it waits to be devoured? What happened in the house on the hill?
