The Final Voyage of Amos

Wyld FLASH – December 11th 2020

By Sarah Gallego

Amos ran his tongue over the dryness of his lips. His empty stomach lurched as the tiny wooden boat bobbed forever up and down under the furious heat of the sun. His fingertips rippled through the cool waters that surrounded him.

He should fall over the side, tumble downwards through the sapphire sea and just close his eyes. He couldn’t imagine trying to survive this hell for another moment. He absently scratched his weather-beaten chin, releasing a flurry of snow-white flakes from his crumbling skin.

How many days had it been since he’d last eaten, last tasted the freshness of water or rum? Five days? Six? He could picture the Captain telling them how a man could only live three days without water. Amos tried to smirk, but nothing would move. Three days? If only someone from the trading ship were still alive. He’d be able to tell them the tale of how he survived for nearly twice as long as another man. Only he couldn’t tell them. They were all gone and his mouth, his poor dry mouth wouldn’t be able to tell a tale to another soul again.

His eyes, raw and burning blinked against the blinding light that glittered like crystals across the surface of the sea. A dark flash leapt from the glistening waves. Amos blinked again. A dolphin? Or knowing his luck, a shark. Yes, he tried to nod. It was more than likely a shark.

The black creature danced through the waters, first moving away from him and then flipping, turning and swimming in the direction of his feeble craft. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the rough side of the boat. This was it. This was going to be how Amos Millar would go to meet his maker.

As a silent prayer was offered up, Amos’s grey eyes saw the ebony shape begin to take form. Long, flowing hair the colour of the rarest turquoise. Eyes that would have left God himself breathless. A face, so sweet, so pure his heart seemed to stop beating. Amos found himself leaning over the side of the boat. Surely his mind was playing one final cruel trick on him? He had heard these tales since he had been a lad, standing proudly by the side of his father at the inn, while the crowd were mesmerised by his stories of the sea nymphs from the Indian ocean. Once he had become a sailor himself, he’d realised what a gift his father had for spinning a yarn. There were no real Sirens in the ocean.

 And yet, here he was leaning over the side of his tiny boat, finding himself being drawn towards her icy, full lips. Just a kiss. Just one. Amos’ mouth found hers. Suddenly, he was enveloped by her, pulled down through the dark and murky waters. She filled his lungs with water. Stole his consciousness. The last thing he ever thought was how her lips tasted just like the finest salt.

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Author Bio: Sarah Gallego has lived in North Wales for 40 years. Married with 4 children and an insane cocker spaniel. she works as a primary school teacher and loves reading, drawing and writing

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Wyldblood Magazine #4

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