Sailing
I love to sail. I lie on the top of the water, the water glistening below me. Reaching speeds of 70 miles per hour, but everyone tries to catch me. They cannot. I am just too fast. There is a fishing boat behind me, trying to catch me, slowly trolling behind my wake. But they will not catch me. Nothing can catch me. The people look at me and my sail with wonder. I am so fast. I am not alone. My companions float around me, admiring my speed. Hunger breaks my serene joy. I must find food. But in the ocean, how am I to find food? Looking around, I see only large fish, like Tuna and Wahoo. They aren’t tasty. I ask my friends if they have seen any food, but they haven’t. I am on my own. My friends have all gone away or been caught by the others. It isn’t easy being what I am, but I must continue on my journey. Will I ever see my friends again? Maybe. Maybe not. This is my life. There is no ability to change what I am. I must go on, looking for new places, new food, and new people. A sailfish I am, a sailfish I always will be.
-Patrick
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