Seagulls laugh and screech, and fish and fly. The waves are
regular; the wind has dropped. And Misery talks out loud for Joy’s benefit.
“We’re not going anywhere. The wind has died.”
“Yes. There’s not much to do.”
“This is annoying. It all started so well. I was looking
forward to it. And now look at us.”
“The sky is blue all the way to the horizon. What a sight!”
“And that makes you happy? You’re not going to call for
rescue?”
“No.”
“It does not make you happy?”
“I’d be happy with any weather.”
“O … kay. Whatever. How about the rescue?”
“What for?”
“I don’t know, you know, so we’re not bored for hours on end.”
“You’ve never just done something to enjoy the process?”
“Well I do enjoy the process if I know I am getting to my
goal.”
“What is your goal?”
“The thrill of speed … full wind in our sails.”
“Ha!”
“What do you mean ‘Ha!’?”
“Just acknowledging.”
“Well aren’t you going to do anything about it?”
“I am.”
“You’re not doing anything.”
“I am letting you vent.”
“I am just fine! What are you going to do about being
stranded on this infinite ocean?”
“Nothing!”
“Why not? Didn’t you invite me on your boat? Aren’t you the
master sailor?”
“Yes.”
“So …”
"There’s a master above me.”
“And who’s that?”
“Nature.”
“Well, I’m never doing this again!”
“I guess not.”
Silence.
Deeper silence.
Silence filled with tension.
Sigh.
