Dead Calm
written by: Margit Horsky
Dead calm. All sails have fallen limp. The sea and the sky surround me, above and below. Where are the boundaries that divide them? I am alone in this boundless blue.
How did I get here? I must have fallen asleep, rocked by a light breeze and inebriated by the briny smell of the sea.
I gaze toward what seems to be the horizon, but nothing breaks the uniformity around me.
There are no seagulls in the sky, no fish rippling the water with their movements.
The silence! Doesn’t the sea make any sound? Not even the gentle lapping against the sides of the boat?
Perhaps I am dreaming, or maybe this is death. I do not fear it. Absence is not pain; it is peace.
Perhaps the breeze will wake me, and I will sail again. I will return to my usual life, with its doubts and longings, its burdens and its presences.
Or perhaps she will offer me her hand and draw me toward her, into the depths of the sea or up into the sky. And we will be together again — in other forms, with other names, but with the same happiness.
- Dead Calm - September 5, 2026
- An Unexpected Present - June 10, 2026
- Pretending - March 13, 2026
