/based on picture above/
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'Jake, use your paddle correctly, will you?'
Doug yelled out to me, his voice drowned out by the cascading waterfall up ahead. It was my first time kayaking and I remember it like the back of my hand. The so called 'waterfall' wasn't even that grand; I was delusional, adrenaline pounding around my body turning my head into a throbbing mess of hormones and reckless ideas. I swing my red paddle around with some discomfort as the brown mush of the river trickled from the edges of the paddle onto my white trousers, standing them ash grey. Behind me, Doug steered us away from the bank of the river, cursing at me to keep my focus and to 'stop getting lost in your own thoughts'.
'God sake's man, I'm a doctor, not a professional rower!'
I try as hard as I can to keep my focus and to paddle in time with him. One, two and again, one two. It wasn't even that difficult. The white froth of the river was nostalgic for me as I imagine my childhood. We had lived near the sea and would always wander down to the beach in search of seashells and fragments of broken memories. I used to stand right by the beach, waiting impatiently for the waves to crash onto the fine sand so I could splash the water sky-high. Those were simpler times.
I draw my attention back to the present. We were close to the waterfall now, only a couple of meters away from the rim of the river. The current was getting stronger as we felt the waterfall drawing us in closer to certain impending doom. Or fun. It could go either way, im I'm entirely honest. My friends in the other kayak falling back behind us were saying something, but again, I couldn't quite make out what they said. All of a sudden, their voices blurred together into the rapid rhythmic roaring of the water. As I draw nearer, I see that there are two separate areas in which the water falls; these two sections are separated by what appears to be a schism of furious white rapids that churn together into a thick cream.
Now I was thinking, thoughts flowing through my head as fast as the water that was pulling us in. I think of colours, of nature and of people.
The lime green of my own kayak contrasted greatly with the brown of the river. My red paddle cut through the surface of the river like a blade cutting into meat. The light brown of the mud on either side of the river bed blended in nicely with my theme of 'colour cutting' as it was distinct to the darker, more ambitious green of the slender grass growing on the banks. People dressed in two dull colours; black and white. Like photographs and memories. A little song bird flew by across the horizon, singing a bittersweet melody. I watch the bird with keen eyes as I try not to think about the waters that would plunge me into an extravagant death.
Of course, it was nothing like that. The waters would only wet my clothes and, in the worst case scenario, my hair. Everything I had thought was not real.
It was all just in my head.
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photo credits to JerzyGorecki on Pixabay
YOU ARE READING
chaotic good
Short Storyjust a series of short stories that I thought would be fun to do! they're all based on random images off the internet and I'll try to update daily if possible and feel free to request! /I have no idea who the cover photo is by but credits to the cre...
