Bermuda

Entry to this week’s Sunday Photo Fictioner!

“I see a light!!” exclaimed the first mate atop the lookout post. The wrong turn at Bermuda had proved costly for the ship had been set in fog for the last several months; neither land nor sea could be seen during the day and the stars turned faulty during the night.  Voyager’s crew, now roused alive by the news, turned to face the ship’s bow in near disbelief. A faint glow emerged near the horizon against the backdrop of night. One light became two, two became four, four doubled to eight, and so on until the whole expanse lit up in white.  A sudden wind then filled the sails, jolting the vessel forwards that nearly capsized the crew.

“Lower the mast and drop the anchor!” howled the captain who first regained his senses just seconds too late. The Voyager began to accelerate at an unnatural rate, first cutting through the waves before skipping over the waver’s surface and eventually flying. The distant lights turned night into day only to retreat and welcome back the night at rates like a flickering candle against the wind before dying. And indeed, the candle did go out for when the crew finally came to, they met with a swath of lights without fire, suns without warmth against a blackened sea. Foreign voices emanating from vessels without sails reverberated all around them at intervals. They repeated two phases: “This is the coast guard. Identify yourselves”.