The turtle came by our boat again today, poking his big head up, observing me with wise but sad eyes.
I wish I could comprehend his need to communicate with me. Perhaps he saw what happened, why Sam disappeared in the wee hours in the skiff, taking only his sextant.
Mary spends winters living on a 35-foot sailboat in Florida and summers in Ontario. A wanderer by fate, she embraces photography, writing, acting, and fitness coaching as opportunities present themselves.
Editor: This story is a prequel to The Juggernaut. You can also read the sequel, The Trapped Submarine.
“It hasn’t been tested!” his crew muttered.
“I’ll volunteer, Cap.”
“Why you Piper?”
“Stupid, sir!”
Later…
“Piper, your wife’s been in to see me. She’s some woman, all right. Made me promise to bring you home! Anyway, when we’re through we can celebrate with this here whiskey I’ve been saving.”
Connell Wayne Regner had successfully avoided writing creatively since he wrote spontaneous lyrics to music some years ago. Although from a linguistic background, he has serendipitously succumbed to fiction. His other dabblings can be found at paragraphplanet and wtdmagazine.wordpress.com.
“During this voyage of a lifetime, always remember…” The priest’s nasally voice trailed off.
“Remember what?” said Captain Harkner.
“Just… remember,” said the priest. “In general. You’ll never complete your voyage if you can’t remember things! That’s why I’m staying safely here at home: mind like a sieve, that’s me!”
This story was based on the prompt “the voyage” at TypeTrigger.