Dark waters

Keila had never realised that looking into nothing could mean everything, but here she was, staring into the darkness that was the never-ending ocean. It was like staring into a starry night sky, Keila realised, just with an even stronger feeling of existential crisis.

A barrel went past her head, shrinking into darkness. “That must have been the wine that the captain valued so much. What was its name?” She thought, as the solid oak barrel became a small dot in the vastness of the view, “Oh right, ´Waters end´. I wonder how good it actually was.”

“Speaking of the captain, where was he when we made the turn?” Keila frowned, she couldn’t remember where and when she last saw him, “Must be my mind going.”

Something large went past her back, causing turbulence and disorienting her. After a few seconds Keila managed to reorient herself, now looking as the ship she was on only minutes before.

Keila could see the place on the deck that she used to stand at whenever she puked. Grimacing at the memory she directed her gaze to the mast that was hanging in the rigging, slowed by the sail catching the water and slowing the ships decent. The sound of wood cracking reached Keila’s ears and then she saw the anchor accelerating ahead of the ship, before it was stopped by it, yanking it slightly sideways.

Keila smiled: “Iron seeking the darkness, wood falling into the darkness and cloth trying to stay in the light.” As the ship continued it’s slow travel to the place to where the barrel could possibly be found, Keila noticed that her vision was going dark.

“Getting dark early today. No, wait, it is noon. Something is wrong.”