Adrift

“Let’s save the fat one for last. Dem chubby ones be good eatin.”

Larry’s eyes popped open, the side of the boat only inches from his face. He dared not breathe. If he had heard what he thought he heard, he couldn’t let them know he knew. Closing his eyes again, he feigned sleep as he desperately tried to find a way out of his situation.

Yesterday morning the five of them had gone out on Frank’s boat. It was to be a day of guys drinking beer and catching a fish or two out on the open ocean; not completely dissimilar from your basic 3-hour tour.

Five hours later, the scrum of drunken men was finding sudden sobriety in the brisk exercise of frantic bailing as their boat slowly sank beneath their feet. The sun was setting and the land had disappeared over the horizon. Frank pulled the inflatable raft from a locker at the boat’s stern. They had all piled into it and then watched as the boat raced the sun to see who could be swallowed by the ocean first.

During the first day, they had joked with each other, certain that rescue was close at hand. “Larry, you is so fat you could live off of your own blubber for weeks.” That Carl was a real card. Larry disliked him immensely.

Now it was day two. They had run out of supplies last night. Apparently, starvation had already caused the others to develop contingency plans for dinner should help not arrive soon.

In a flash, Larry was up and over the side. As he frantically paddled away, he heard Carl say, “After you are done swimming come help us eat all of this fish we caught this morning. We still have the fattest one left.”

Word count 299