Sun Kil Moon – Australian Winter
Mark Fredricks, 35, had dropped out of school once. He liked the rush it gave him, how he had felt totally free, like he could stand straighter because he didn’t have all that bullshit weighing him down. He’d spent the rest of his life trying to get his shoulders to feel so light again.
Well, if dropping out of school had done it once, dropping out of life should work too, he thought. So he took all the money out of his bank account, sublet his two-bedroom apartment, and donated all his collected junk to Salvation Army. With the money he bought a boat and enough supplies to last him two weeks, give or take. His guitar he unstrung and tied the nylon strings together – tight knots, satisfying knots. He soldered the knotted ends together so they wouldn’t come undone.
Near the inlet where he kept his sailboat he picked up a thick, sturdy stick, and added that to his small bag of possessions aboard the boat.
He had a plan. He would fish for sustenance, throwing his line into the velvet sea and hauling his meals out of the water. He’d stay fishing forever out on the seas, sleeping in the boat, setting anchor in remote areas where no one would bug him. He had a pot to catch rain water. He had a book and he had a tune to whistle and he had hope.
As Mark Fredricks set sail, away from life and away from the Australian beach, his shoulders felt so light he could swear he was floating three inches above the deck.
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I sighed so deep with more air than I thought my lungs could hold and had been holding the entire time after I finished this and now I’ve fallen so deep so below the level of where I live and I do not want to get up, thank you.
This is wonderful. I really don’t know what else to say.
One of my favourite Tune the Pro entries.