The death of Gods Men - Short Story
Let me paint you a Picture: In the centre a rusty old fishing boat in a storm with massive waves. On deck stands a fisherman loosening knots; Draped in water he’s wearing yellow cape. Just behind him: a wave in the midst of breaking right above him thus sweeping him out to the open sea. Just to the left: the captain trying to keep the vesel afloat also dressed in a yellow cape but safe from water in his captains’ quarter by the wheel. Zoom in: The fisherman on deck. His face seems aged. His eyes are closed. His mouth: open as though in the middle of a scream. The captain by the wheel. He looks aged with his big white beard. His expression one of sheer terror. His eyes are open but only black. His eyebrows raised as far as possible and his mouth slightly open as though mumbling his final prayer. Zoom out: A wave of inevitability. It is dark blue almost blackish. Its white breaker about to crash into the boat like a great white shark’s teeth attacking a baby seal. The sky is filled ...