Sharks Have Teeth

Paddling. Forever paddling. The sea become a plate of glass. Muscles ripple under sun-warmed skin. Twist, dip, pull. One side then the other, a steady rhythm. Echoing our hammering hearts.

Progress made toward an achievement. What drives him? they ask. They wonder if success is within our grasp. What memes, what creation? Who shares the mantle?

The grind endures. Solitude a prison. The strongest break with a mesmerizing, satisfying crunch.

Realization blossoms fully. The kayak is immutable, effort spins the world. Dark shapes move closer. Forever closer. Circling. Waiting.

Exhaustion overtakes, spells bitten.

A prayer is heard. We’re not alone.

(100 words)

Picture is linked via They Walked the Night.

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