Into the Storm

        The wooden planks bucked under her feet as the cold spray whipped across her face. She ran her tongue over her lips to catch the salty drops that puckered her tongue with the familiar taste of the sea. Her bare toes gripped the painted deck and the sodden rigging bit into her palm as she rose and fell with the swelling waves.
        She chanced a glance back over her shoulder. The sun still shone behind her, but it was weak, watery light in the face of the gale ahead. The sky was black and it met the water at the far horizon in an almost imperceptible, glittering line.
        The waves, purple, green, blue, and black at turns, buffeted the small sailboat and she ducked reflexively as the boom crashed over, timed almost perfectly to a staccato burst of thunder. She grinned as the wind tore at her hair and clothes and steered into the storm.

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