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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
The *ocean, that great expanse through which the winds blow unobstructed. That place so calm, so serene, yet so tumultuous and unforgiving for those so unprepared, unsuspecting of her wrath. Yet even knowing that the prediction is unpredictable, that even with a steady light variable forecast for small short period waves on a ten second interval, she can be whipped up by squall into a frenzy on a moments notice of eight to ten on three... I am called by her sirens, the maidens of the deep that whisper the sweet promise of the oceans bounty. It's her leviathans I seek, her monsters, her teeth and tails, her danger at the worlds edge with fins in the deep dark lair. Those secret places hidden from the light where monsters grow as big as imagination and possibility is fed by her fertility. That place of 100 fathoms and greater with all that danger, the sure footing of land so far away, I seek to fight her for that bounty on her home field of salt and blue. *She whispers to me while I labor, while I live and breath so far away from her lapping *and beating waters. She sings the song of the "ancient mariner", she plays her melody of screaming reels and dark images under her skin that remain the mystery held tight to her bosom. Her dark water would give me that second chance at that great mystery, that one that got away, the one that broke the line, the one that bent the hook, the one that took the bait without the puncture of the hook. In that time of winter, of in-climate weather, I long for that return. My reunion with nature and beast. Where I am tested and tempered. And so tamed and wild in the same space and time. The great expanse where times stands still and moments slip by in a heartbeat. The place where I may meet the thing inside me that makes me want to kill, yet respects the blood that I spill. With that sun on my shoulders, the sweat on my brow stinging my eyes and running from my skin to meet the great waters. As if the larger body of water calls the smaller drops incomplete without them. In this way she calls me, she calls the salt in me, the liquid in me for its return to the greater self. Just as our dust returns to the soil so must our moisture return to the great waters. I shall meet her there and bargain for my life against one of her children. On most occasions I will win, to return to shore safe and full, but there are those who never return, she takes and she gives. For the sea shall have all of us eventually, even if it's just the blood in our veins. We are after all as much a part of the ocean as she is part of us. We came from her dripping of primal ooze and to her we return by want, by will, or just mearly by her pleasure.
 

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Discussion Starter · #4 ·
Thanx guys, I'm really thinking about putting a short story together, this is my starting point... We'll see how it goes, so far slow but steady...
 
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