a short story on love

Mr.Furry took aim and let go. The arrow flew and found its mark, just barely though. Surprisingly, the unfortunate recipient of the arrow did not exhibit any signs of pain or discomfort, for the moment. Mr. Furry admired his handiwork and prepared for the second volley. With the target in sight , he let go of his projectile. Unfortunately , a little roll of the sea ( Poseidon had been having some indigestion) caused the supposed recipient of the arrow to move . And move she did, just out of the way of the arrow, which just grazed the little frown on her forehead, and disappeared into the unknown.

",Shit," thought Mr. Furry, as he reached for another one and found his little palm close around nothingness.

             un- oh.

 no more arrows.

  Oh, well he thought, shit happens. And paused to view the spectacle unfolding for a little while. (At this point it would be better to explain to the reader that time moved differently for mr.Furry than it did for the recipients of his arrows) After playing spectator for a bit (and across at least 2 continents, and 3 countries), Mr .Furry grew bored and decided to go home. He pulled the arrow from his first recipient and returned to his own dimension. Where Mrs Furry would have (hopefully..) prepared some lovely soup for him. It was with thoughts of delicious hot soup that Mr.Furry disappeared off this planet and into the great unknown.

   

             

It was a stormy day.The ship started bouncing in late hours of the evening. And we bounced , bounced and bounced all the way from   kaohsiung to keelung. Expecting bad weather, the deck team had spent hours lashing various bits and pieces to other bits and pieces. It was number 8 on the beaufort scale, with winds reaching 60-70 km/h.     Not the worst I have been through, but certainly not best time for a stroll on deck for sure. Most of the campaign team from taiwan had been decimated on arrival, the bad weather casualties being visibly missing from the lunch table. But all said and done , It is such a thrill , to feel the ship constantly move underneath your feet. To step out and hear the waves smashing against the steel hull , sending a fine mist of salty water across the ship. Its spectacular. Every time I step out on deck , I marvel , feel a smile speeding across my salt water covered face. And I remind myself that one misstep , would be the end. There is no saving anyone in this, The edge of the ship is like the edge of a cliff. to davy jones locker, as they used to say. Macabre thought, maybe, but one that brings into perspective the life we lead. There is very often no place for stupidity, or mistakes in this life. And at sea, I am full of gratitude to someone somewhere, for letting me lead it. Every time.