We Float Upon a Painted Sea Read Online Free PDF Page A

moments. He assumed that the lifeboats must be on the side of the ship, he could see no other reason for the deserted scene. The ship was listing heavily so there was no way of making it to the other side without jumping into the sea.
     
    He edged further along the upper deck, holding onto the rails, until he found a spot where he could safely fix his eyes to the water below. A paralysing fear consumed him. The height of the jump and the perceived temperature of the water raised its own levels of concern, but right now the intrinsic fear of water itself swamped his rationality. As he approached the bridge he came across the empty pod of a life raft. The interior was streaked with blood. Instantly he was consumed with a feeling of wretched helplessness. He was convinced that the ship was at least mocking him and at worst was trying to kill him.
     
    He summoned his inner voice, searching for logical alternatives to jumping, but all the while his subconscious was undermining his cognitive process with the stark realisation that he was delaying the inevitable. He wondered how long he could he survive in the North Atlantic without a survival suit - it was a soliloquy centred over minutes and not hours, and the verbal outburst ended with him screaming and shaking his fists at the sea. He convinced himself that he would have jumped by now if he had spotted a lifeboat, so logic had prevailed. He was also well aware that if the ship went under he would have to swim well clear, if he wasn’t to be sucked under. This concept was based on nothing more than watching disaster movies and he chastised himself for not knowing if this was accurate or not.
     
    He wondered how long it would take for the ship to sink, and considered the option of waiting it out, until the Coast Guard sent out their cutters, or the emergency services dispatched a rescue drone to save him. If he could only find some warm clothes from one of the suitcases he had come across, strewn around the decks, but that would mean going back into the darkness - the body of the ship. He peered back towards the stern, where he had come from – water was flooding in from below. He decided he needed to find a higher level. His hands fumbled along the ship’s superstructure until he grasped a metal ladder. He scuttled to the top, where he stood, perched over the sea, like a heron, studying the waters beneath his feet.
     
    Higher now, he was afforded a better view. The sea was a melange of wreckage - some from the ship and other debris swept in and offered up by the swells, but something else disturbed him. For the first time he could see through the surface of the water. He noticed a submerged light from the ship illuminating the unfathomable depth of the precipitous green sea. New demons were now at work in his disorientated mind, egged on by the orbs which danced in the scattering light. The scene instilled a primal fear of being swallowed whole, of drowning and being lost forever in the dark void below. His dark thoughts were interrupted by the high pitched screech from a passing flock of guillemots, bringing him back to reality. He watched the birds fly uniformly towards, where he imagined, the coastline lay, somewhere through the mist. He envied their wings. He trailed his focus towards where he expected the shoreline to be – hoping that the mist would lift sometime soon, and he would be able to detect at least a distant but discernible black line on the horizon. The current view revealed nothing.
     
    Finally, he prepared himself for the jump. He decided he needed to take three deep breaths. The first breath made his head dizzy. On the second breath his body stiffened. Then, through his feet, he felt a metallic fracturing noise emanate from the ship’s hull. A shudder ran through his body, almost throwing him from the ladder. His fingers tightened around the metal rung.
    “What in Christ’s name is this?” he said out loud. His voice sounded high pitched and