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He threw his lantern against the wall,
the glass shattering and its oil flowing down the wood. He cradled his head in his hands, inadvertent to the fire that mounted his cabin. His life was in shambles. What was he to do next? Did anything matter? The fire roared. Everything seemed immaterial; irrelevent. The fire roared and hoplessness set in. Where would he go from here? Would he die in his captain's cabin? Or would his ship steer somewhere else? It didn't seem to matter. Only the coming hours could tell. His life was beyond his control. |
Copyright ©2007 Ashi Shadow 7/22/07
Should life (at the end) be existence or something?
The "coming hours" really meant what Katie would do or something I believe.