Tumultuous Thursday
Swirling, engaged, held down, gasping for air, flailing. “Can it get any worse than this?” The weight of the entire Pacific Ocean lay upon me. Pelicans fly overhead in long, straight glides, landing at the rock just beyond the reef. They don’t seem to see me drowning between the rocks with my camera strap snagged on something below. I’m in and out of the waves, slipping, grabbing, finally my tenuous hold on a jutting object rewards my efforts and I’m able to climb from the churning mass and bring myself out to my familiar environment. “I’ll never do that again”, I say to myself as I free my camera from the rock it found so endearing a moment ago. I’m sopping wet, head-to-toe, and a couple are watching me and laughing. Yes, laughing.
Well, it was funny. I was being perhaps a bit dramatic, and all in all, there really never was any real danger, I mean, anyone could see I was just slipping around on the rocks and being stupid. But I was wet, and my camera’s probably ruined.
Okay, I’m lying. My camera’s not wet. I didn’t drown. I was just seeing if you were paying attention. No, there never was any camera strap snagged on the murky deep. I made the whole thing up.
Serves you right for drifting off. I’m going to keep you on your toes now. You’re going to see the boy who cried wolf here, and I’ll never gain your credibility again.
