BREATH OF FRESH WATER

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The sea was angry that night. It was a storm the likes of which the old sailor had never seen in all his years. His ship thrashed about in the dark waves, a jet of salt water blasting him as he battled to stay afloat. Holding on for dear life, another wave slammed into him and everything went dark.

When he awoke he was still gripping the wheel, his body hanging from it. His large brown beard dripping sea water, he squinted in the sunlight and heard the cry of seagulls.

Wringing the salt water out of his dark hat, the mariner got his bearings. He was alive but where was he? Where had the storm brought him?

The mist ahead of him cleared. Astonished, he saw that his ship was drifting towards a small island. Just then, the faintest sound of a woman singing filled his ears.

The closer his ship approached the island the clearer it became. At this distance, how could that be? Curious, the captain grabbed the steering wheel pressing the boat on full steam ahead.

Anchoring his vessel not far from land, the sailor paddled off in a lifeboat until arriving with the waves on a tan shore.

The poetic melody seemed visible to him. Glowing musical notes floated and curved in the air, leading him on a trail through the thick bushes of the tropical land. Pushing his way through the green, it wasn’t long before the sailor found himself at a waterfall, a towering rock cliff with a large whooshing torrent pouring off the edge and crashing into a small oasis at the bottom. Boulders and fauna surrounded the waterfall. Sunlight passing through the mist flashed an arc of color floating above the pool.

Then he saw her.

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