Lost At Sea

Lost At Sea It was a quiet night when I woke up in the small cabin I shared with the other deck-boy. The porthole was open and brought a welcoming cooling breeze and I fell asleep again wondering idly what the other deck boy was up to. He was missed at eight o’clock by, the time his watch began, the ship turned around and on the enormous sun sparkly mirror, we looked for him. We knew this was hopeless but something had to be written in the ship’s logbook. His name was Terje, a puny little boy who cried a lot when shouted at and therefore was an easy target to make fun of by the crew. His steady masturbation had gone on my nerves, mostly because he dried his fluid on the curtain that covered each bunk for privacy. Crew, silent for a few days, feeling guilty for teasing him, I too felt a nip of guilt I enjoyed having the cabin by myself, when we docked in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, Terje was all but forgotten.