Southwesterly (156 Words)
There was no doubt the wind was right. It was a strong southwesterly. Even so, Marina’s hand clenched on the tiller.
“You’re crazy!” she said. “There’s no way we can do this!”
She wasn’t sure at first if the other little sailboat heard her. She could just see the energetic shape of her partner-in-craziness, Mevi. His voice came to her on the same wind that was pulling her forward.
“You’re right! But who will if we don’t?”
Marina’s jaw clenched. Thinking of the clawed monster sleeping in the deep, she saw again the wrecked fishing boats and the faces of grieving families. She thought of her uncle’s dead, drowned face.
The wind whipped the color in her cheek. She held the tiller firm.
“It’s crab cake tonight or nothing at all!”
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