Saeglopur...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Picture "Bermuda Triangle Ship Disaster" by Victor Habbick

- A short story about a woman's struggle at sea. Based on the song Saeglopur by Sigur Ros.

Submitted: February 26, 2012

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Submitted: February 26, 2012

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2/27/2012 11:23 p.m. - 12:05 a.m.

 

 

I’m lost amongst the sea.

My ship has traveled so far into this storm that I can’t seem to remember how it began. My sense of smell is taken over by rushing sea-salt and my touch by pelting rain. I can’t see what’s in front of me and I don’t know where I’m going.

I wish I could write my thoughts down because I believe these might be my last. I can stay hopeful, I know, but…

I’m lost amongst the sea.

I remember being really small. I used to pretend to play pirate with my brother all the time. He wanted to be the lookout so I always steered the ship. He liked being up on the crow’s nest, always seeing so far ahead of me, I just tried getting us there. It’s so different this time.

The ship was long, and bowl shaped, maybe not the most efficient in bad weather but it’d do better than this small sail-boat. The wood was so fine-furnished that it glowed on the surface of the water, laying right next to the sun. It made me feel comfortable, knowing that wherever we were going, the journey was so beautiful.

I don’t remember much being like that then.

Maybe he saw it differently. No, he probably did see it differently, I was so much older, but he was so much wiser.

I remember crying once. I can’t honestly remember why, maybe I had another one of those migraines I always got, or that time our dog bit off Big Bear’s head. Maybe my father struck my face again. I cried a lot that moment, and he was there. He used to always be there. I missed him a lot then, but I think I miss him the most now.

It’s silly what we miss. I seem to miss only the really stupid and trivial of things. I miss running in the street naked. I miss my grandmother kidnapping me for a day to go with her to those girly salons she loved so much; I’m not much of a feminine woman. I miss Dan, my first love. I miss brother telling me he loved me and me being to embarrassed to say it back, and not feeling bad about it. I miss a lot of really stupid and trivial things.
But those things I remember the most. I don’t remember losing my first tooth, I don’t remember my first day of school. To be honest I only really remember my grandma getting really high on pain-killers for her back aches on my wedding day, and I really love that man.

I “love” a lot of things. I used to actually love most of the world when I was little; family, beaches, smooth rocks, dolls, my friends, ships, etc. I don’t remember the day that changed, but I know that I just “love” those things now. I think as you get older you love less things, but you begin to love more.

I love my brother, and I love Dan.

Ships would come next. My brother always wanted to be a sailor and Dan was. I loved watching Dan raise the sail on his boat, and I loved pretending to watch my brother do the same thing. I’ve never admitted this before but Dan’s a lot like my brother. They both share the same hobbies, the same humor. They both share the same goofy smile. I wouldn’t consider him a replacement, no one could replace my brother.

I love them both, and so I love what they love. So then I must love sailing. I must love ships, tackle boxes, and fishing. I must love the smell of the lake first thing in the morning and I must love my breakfast warm. I must love hugging, and the feel of things, and I must love me.

I’m so lost amongst the sea.

My hearts beating so fast and my fingers are numb amongst the cold rain. My face is stretched with the wind and I can feel my body shaking; I don’t know whether from the temperature or my nervous mind. I’m beginning to lose my grip on the wheel. I wish I could write down all of my thoughts right now.

I’d write down everything.

I’d write about killing my abusive father.

I’d write about loving my brother and my prune, wet late husband.

I’d write about falling in love, out of love and back in love with him.

I’d write about him sailing, his love of tackle boxes and pancakes.

I’d write about the pain of losing someone; I’d write a whole book on that.

I’d write a fantasy, one where I lived with my brother and Dan.

I’d write a tragedy, one with my father dying instead.

I’d write a love story; I’d write about my love for Dan.

I’d write…

 

I’m lost amongst the sea.

My ship has traveled so far into this storm that I can’t seem to remember how it began…

 

 


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