Surfing
This is a short story about what I imagine it feels to surf.
The water is clear and serene as I prepare to do the most dangerous and reckless thing of my life; all to win a stupid bet. I gently push my board into the sea, hesitantly, jump on. Lying on my stomach, I can feel the smooth sensation of the wax I used on my board. I anxiously start pumping my arms, enjoying the feel of my muscles straining to pull myself swiftly and smoothly across the water. When I have gone far enough I wait, skittishly, for the giant wave to dare to approach me. I’m starting to see just how gigantic the wave is - will I be able to do this!? When the dreaded time comes and the tremendous, roaring, wave is almost upon me, I stand up and prepare myself for the ride of a lifetime. As the colossal wave lifts me, as if I weigh nothing at all, the sound of the ferocious water is ear-splitting. I can hear my frantic heart beating, feel the saltwater board vibrating under my slightly wobbly feet from the sheer strength of the wave. The water hitting me feels like hundreds of needles ruthlessly stabbing into me, the water is so cold it numbs my fingers. I enter the tunnel of the wave, the silence is deafening. The smell of the saltwater is assaulting my senses, but the view …. It’s breathtaking. The cautious sun peeking out from the corner of the wave, the light reflecting off of the water - it’s unbelievable. I begin to emerge from the secluded tunnel, the taste of victory already filling my mouth and warming me from the inside out, as I realize that I am going to win. Until I find myself face planting, the taste of victory is quickly replaced by the sharp sting of the salty water. There goes my car, I thought as the rough current pulls me under, begging to show me the floor of the sea.
