Chapter 6

With aching heart and aching lungs the man propelled himself to the surface. He broke the stillness of the water with a loud splash and inhale of breath. He squinted at the brightness of the sun and scowled slightly that it would dare bare it's oppressive heat down on him again. But he would not be deterred for long. He dipped his head back under the water and popped up like a geyser, spitting water in all directions. He dove down and back up, over and over, all the while smiling and laughing. He played in the water like a child, innocent and care-free, forgetting his helplessness.

At long last, the man breathed a contented sigh. His legs ached from the constant kicking, and he rubbed his shoulder, unaccustomed to the workout. For a second, his legs gave way, and his head dipped below the water. Sputtering and coughing he regained his rhythm and turned to venture back to the raft. Behind him lay only the vast expanse of the water. He furtively glanced all around, looking for some sign of his rescue, his only means of survival.

Panic began to seep into his muscles as he turned in the water, squinting into the horizen. Finally, he saw off in the distance, the black shape of his tiny, floating home. How had it gotten so far away? In his revelry, the man had lost track of time and distance and by the time he bothered to look he had taken himself far away from his raft and where he began. He forced his exhausted muscles to swim as he pointed his body toward the raft and kicked with what strength he had left.

Kick after kick he slowly and painfully worked his way back towards the floating wood, his eyes fixed on it for fear of losing it again. With every second it became harder and harder to keep his head above the surface of the water. His breathing became more ragged as he tried to will his body to get him to safety.

He began thinking about the wonder of the water. Remembering its sweetness and the invigoration of when he first felt it upon his face. He stopped worrying about his muscles, and peace washed over him once again as he felt the water invade his soul again, renewing him. Without realizing, he had swam within a few short feet from the raft. His muscles yearned for rest from his constant swimming. He looked carefully at the raft searching for a suitable handhold to pull himself back on to rest.

He spotted a slight gap in the wood that would allow him hoist his body back on the raft and swam towards it. As he did, he looked at the raft again. He saw the worn spot where his head lay, night after night. He saw the dry, cracked surface, so rough and uncomfortable. And his eyes filled with tears as he saw the small circle of blood, where his rage pounded against this floating prison. A foot from the floating wood, the man stopped.