Saturday, March 5, 2016

Convoy

Hart stared at the horizon.  The sea and sky were almost the same shade of black; the sea darker.  The ship pitched into a trough and crashed into the oncoming wave, freezing water flooding the deck.  Hart clung onto the rail and cursed.  To starboard an ancient steamer was engulfed in spray.  Only a madman would expose himself to such weather.  Madmen and petty officers with a nervous lieutenant-commander.  They’d already lost five ships.  Hart shuffled along the deck and repeated a prayer.  The steamer erupted at its stern.  The lieutenant-commander would leave it to its fate.  Hart prayed again.


A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

1 comment:

Margot Kinberg said...

Really effective use of the storm here, Rob. I like the commentary about the characters, too.