Sneak Peek: “Non fui, fui, non sum, non curo” (short story draft)

I am lost at sea, washed overboard during a terrific storm which nearly capsized the boat several times.

It is dark.

I have not caught a glimpse of the ship in some time. How long has it been? Hours? Days? Time has no meaning out here. Is this what eternity feels like to a deity? It is like a dream, though the pain and fear and exhaustion remind me that it is quite real.

Did I have another life before this? That seems like a dream more than this.

Swells are sixty feet high, cresting and crashing at the top. The water is biting cold. I fight constantly to keep my head above water, but every time a swell lifts me up, I am tossed into the air at the crest, a free-fall that seems to last forever, my heart catching in my throat, waiting for that sudden plunge back into the churning water. I almost suffocate until I can orient myself and fight back to the surface, gulping great gasps of air and spray, which cause me to choke.

Beyond tired. Exhaustion. Maybe a stronger person could keep it up until they are rescued. If rescue comes. Somewhere in my mind I know that floating on my back and resting is what I need to do, but in such swells and storms and rain, I just don’t have the strength. If I was in better shape, if I was stronger, perhaps I could. But I am tossed about like a little stuffed animal in a dryer. Like a leaf tumbling down a wintry street.

At first, I tried making my shirt into a flotation device, just as we were taught in safety classes. But I cannot get it sealed, and the air won’t hold. I tried rolling myself into a ball to hold still and relax, go with the swells, stretching out and breathing at intervals, but the tossing and turning and spinning makes it impossible.

I tried dropping underwater after a deep breath, relaxing until the air is gone, then back up, hoping for respite beneath the washing machine-like churning. But in such a storm, any calm waters must be far below. The cold saps my strength, and my ability to hold my breath becomes shorter and shorter. All the tricks I know. All of my training. Useless.