An Island Where No One Lives

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Last Entry: Tectonic Shift

The waters slowly subsided into a churning calm, and the air began clearing as well. Within a half-hour, they could look out over the ocean to some distance.

“There’s nothing here,” said the mate, his voice flat with impatience.

“That’s impossible,” the navigator said with terse irritation. “These charts are always accurate. There’s an island here. I’ve been here many times before.”

“There’s nothing here now.”

The captain cleared his throat. “Perhaps,” he said calmly, “the recent disturbance we encountered might have been severe enough to damage the landscape.”

“Sir,” said the navigator. “An entire island cannot disappear in a matter of minutes.”

“Perhaps it hasn’t,” the captain said, stretching his arm out over the railing. The others followed the line of his finger.

Barely visible in the clearing fog was a dark shape against the light.

Orders were given, and the ship swung around to her new heading.