Fisher Boys Redux

Fisher Boys Redux

His legs were sore; he was tired. He was so tired that pulling the damp, sticky white tee shirt over his head was enough to make him stagger. One inch into the edge of the cold surf and he stopped; stared off into the darkness. It was then his wits should have kicked back in.


He walked into the surf and it dropped off suddenly, forcing him to swallow a mouthful of saltwater. Struggling back to the surface, he gasped for air, and coughed up what he could before a wave smashed him in the face, knocking him below again. In his clamoring second breech, he realized he was in the pitch black ocean and still a little drunk.