From the Lost Files: The Storm
I found a story in one of my undergraduate file folders. The story is loosely based on a true story that took place in 1988 or 1989 and written circa 1990's. I went sailing on Lake Michigan with a couple of friends and their parents. I am itching to edit this piece, but will preserve this entry from the voice of my much younger self.
She averted her eyes toward the sun; it seemed to be following her voyage across the untamed waters. The mist of water from Lake Michigan sprinkled over her face. She sat up and peered at the rolling waves. They were a bluish color, the tips individually capped with white. The waves playfully whipped and slapped at either side of the small ivory boat with a certain fierceness.
She diverted her eyes to the edge of the calm horizon to relieve the alarming queasy sensation in her stomach. However, her sudden illness was not caused by the imbalace of her inner ear and the movement of the water. A sudden gust of wind carried across the waters, and small kitty-claws followed, scratching the waves. The lake seemed to become hostile and the horizon grew darker.
As the surroundings became fierce, she clambored to the steps. In her attempts to climb down the stairs she fell. Darkness preceded. Her closest friend shook her immediately. As she awakened, she heard voices upstairs. The friend's parents were taking down the sail. Her friend informed her that it was only a storm and to stay downstairs. As the friend climbed up the stairs, she calmed her other friend, who was trembling. The boat thrashed and rocked like a toy. She waited and peered through the porthole. She felt ill and continued to lie down. She prayed. She prayed for a long time.
After an endless amount of time, she felt the waters calming. The thrashing of the boat ceased, and began to rock gently. The parents called down to them, so she and the friend managed to climb the stairs despite their sealegs. They sat with the others and watched the sunrise.