by James S. Austin
Standing in the newly acquired estate, a painting captured my attention. It held me in rapture.
Moving closer, my eyes drew to the galleon at its centre. The sails taut, rigging displayed in sharp lines from the strain.
My smile faded to confusion. The waves appeared rougher, spray rising off its hull.
The sea now churning in stillness. Swollen clouds above.
Phantom phosphorescent specks began dotting the blue-green strokes. A melodic hum arose in my head.
Trying to end this spiralling descent, cold salt water spilled from my mouth. Coughing. With my last moments, a great yellow eye stared back.
James S. Austin