priority mail

I was supposed to carry an urgent message across the sea. They put me on the fastest ship available, gave me a guard to make sure I was secure, and we set sail. They didn't tell me what was in the letter, only said that it would avert unspeakable disaster. They had every confidence in my ability. So did I, I guess. It was supposed to be just a matter of waiting.

When the storm came up I wasn't worried until the captain came down to tell me that everything would be fine. I told him this was important, and he said he knew. I told him that lives depended on it. He said that would have been true even if I wasn't on the ship. And the storm got worse, and I told the captain to keep going, this was important.

The winds dashed us against some rocks--nobody saw them, it wasn't anybody's fault, but we started taking on a lot of water. And no matter how much I said this was important, we were sinking. The sea, it seems, doesn't care how important you are.

1 comment:

AKA Tha Schust said...

Kafka-esque. Don't like the last sentence, though. Seems redundant.