Where is the Raft?

The rising sun’s heat warms my back as a light breeze cools it; I inhale mist of salty air and smile. Finally I can relax…am I dead? 

Floating along on life’s metaphorical inflatable raft, of course something unreasonable has to happen, because this is me. 

With increasing volume…I hear the roar of a giant wave. My face turned away, eyes closed tight—I choose to ignore it…maybe it will go away if I don’t give it the reaction it wants.

Knocked into black bottomless depths, cold and wet, where vines of seaweed brush against my leg, warning me—‘struggle too much and you’ll end up wrapped in a green web.’ Gooseflesh has replaced smooth warmth. I only want back on the raft…where is the raft?  

Ten minutes—everything had fallen into place…satisfaction, peace…then cruelty of having felt it. 

“Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Tennyson—What an asshole.

January 6, 2017-

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/float/”>Float</a&gt;

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