Gemotions

The salt spray stung his face as he scanned the horizon. Thomas gripped the railing of the small fishing boat, his knuckles white. Captain Harding, his mentor, his instructor, had simply sailed off, leaving no indication of his destination. The sudden silence in the cabin, the absence of Harding's booming laughter, felt like an emptiness that had to be filled. His gaze swept the churning waves, anticipating a sign, a clue, an unwelcome surprise. He felt a constant tension in his shoulders, a need to anticipate the unknown that lay ahead.