Word count: 1248 | Completed:Yes | Style: Retrospective

The boat rocked slowly in the calming ocean, soothing his troubled mind as his hammock followed it. He had been used to traveling on boats for years now, but after a long day such as this he felt a part of him wishing he had become a cleric or more land based job.

The boat swayed. The hammock rocked. Aaron Williamson closed his weary eyes.

And a boy opened his. He stood in the dockyard, still, watching all the bustle about him. People rushing past, squabbling about payments. Ships, tethered, waiting to venture out to their true domain. Sea, barely visible between hurried legs and fighting sea birds, calling him. Stable, constant. The boy raised his chin and took in the high masts of the ships, ropes and sails rustling in the slight salt breeze.

This is where he wanted to be. In the middle of it all- above the calm and wonderful ocean. Smiling to himself, he didn’t see the worker holding the crate rush towards him. A sudden thump to his shoulder gave him a start- but by the time he had worked out what was happening he was sprawled near the edge of the wooden dock and being shouted at by an angry laborer. Navigation equipment littered the wood around the cursing worker as he stood, the crate he had been carrying forlorn and broken.

Scrabbling away before he could be discovered, the boy crawled into an empty loading crate. When he’d brushed the grit off his coat, he looked up to see a wall of wood. One of the ships was leaving and was passing right by his hiding place at the edge of the dock. He could almost touch it…Almost in a trance, the boy reached out- if he could just touch the sturdy wood, to imagine just what wonders it had seen-

The crate shuddered as he shifted his weight.

It creaked as it slid backwards.

And then the boy was falling.

Startled, he drew in breath. Too late. Water.

He flailed about, the coat heavy, weighing him down more and more. The passing ship’s wake sucked him downwards, into the water that just a minute ago had seemed so regal and friendly.

Aaron Williamson sat up suddenly, opening his eyes to the maritime blackness. Comforted by the familiar smells and sounds of a healthy boat, he slumped backwards again and tried to slow his breathing. He remembered how he had been fished out of the water by the angry workman, who had hit him on the back until all the water had exited his lungs. Then kept hitting until he’d learnt his lesson.

But he had been safe. The boy had lay on the dock, watching the clouds drift past an empty crows nest. The sea was dangerous. He turned over, on his side, ignoring the glares he was attracting from passers by, so that he could see the ship that had hypnotized him slowly glide out of view.

“Dangerous, but so beautiful…” Leutenant Willamson murmured, a smile passing across his lips.

The boy stood and began to walk home. He would return the next day, and the day after that, and continue doing so until he was old enough to sail on one of those ships. Old enough to see the ocean all around, stretching to the horizon.

Old enough to truly live.

He closed his eyes again, allowing sleep’s soft fingers to caress his mind. The boy sighed, bright blue eyes not fully recognizing the busy street around him. He imagined himself as a naval Lieutenant, lying in a hammock, dreaming.
The boat rocked slowly in the calming ocean, soothing his troubled mind as his hammock followed it. He had been used to traveling on boats for years now, but after a long day such as this he felt a part of him wishing he had become a cleric or more land based job.

He closed his eyes again, allowing sleep’s soft fingers to caress his mind. The boy sighed, bright blue eyes not fully recognizing the busy street around him. He imagined himself as a naval Lieutenant, lying in a hammock, dreaming.

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