The rain is harsh.

It lashes against my skin like fire.

It turns my skin red enough to match my raincoat.

The raincoat isn’t doing much.

Dark shapes seem to swirl below me in the water.

Nothing ever seems to form.

Simply blurred shadows that bob in and out of view.

I’d join them if the rope in my hands wasn’t so steady.

If the wind pulling it to and from didn’t cut my hands the way it has.

I turn to look behind me.

Behind the unnatural red hull of our boat.

I see dark shapes swirling behind me.

The rain gives way long enough to see.

The mast of a ship.

The sails are drawn in tight.

The dark wood makes it appear and disappear in the gloom.

The mast looms infinite overhead. 

Before disappearing again.

The past always follows.