Message In A Bottle by Skylog

He looked into the mirror and saw himself behind a table, an untouched plate in front of him. He had tried to eat, but he could not swallow, something in his throat stopped him.

He stared into the mirror for a while, before he hastily stood and walked out of the cabin door.  He hurried to the deck of the ship he had boarded just a few hours earlier. When he reached the deck he took long firm steps and walked toward the railing of the port.  He gazed in the direction from which the ship had come. If any followed his glance they would have seen a seagull circling, and if the person looked even deeper into the fog below the bird, they would have seen a cliff and might have figured out, it was this point the man steered at. He didn't blink, he just stood there and watched this last trace of land vanish in the horizon. If there were any spectators to this scene, it might have seemed that this lasted forever, but he felt very differently, for he felt it was only a brief moment and he wished that he could stop time, just to get an extra last glance of the place he loved.

He leaned forward over the railing, so that the mist from the sea hit his face and small salty drops appeared under his eyes. A person seeing these drops, that slowly slid down his cheeks would think that it was water from the sea, but a more trained observer, or a person with insight in the mentality of a silent man, would see that he had wet eyes and a single drop on his cheek was bigger than the others. A chemical analysis would  prove, that this single drop had another origin than the cold and dark water below him. He blinked a few times and closed his eyes.

He didn't want to go away and leave this area, for he had for a long time felt that he belonged here and the land had felt like the place that he could call home. Lately he had felt that he was not needed here, he had felt how his age had affected him, and these arguments had lead to the conclusion that it was best he left while he could still find a place where he could feel he had made a difference. He would never tell this to a living soul, since he sensed that the woman would laugh at him, offering him a biscuit to dry his wet eyes. He felt foolish since only a man would think and act like he did.

His eyes laughed, since he saw the irony in his actions and he nodded before he turned around, and in a few long steps, entered his cabin.  He searched the bag on the bed, which he had hauled to the table with an envelope and a pen in his hand. He placed the envelope hard on the table and used the pen to write a few words. He closed his eyes while he rolled the paper.

He held the rolled paper in one hand and grabbed a bottle of wine from the table that had been a part of his last meal.  He pulled the cork out as he ran toward the railing, pouring the red wine out on the deck. The red wine had streamed behind him, like a storm of passion. He shook the bottle hard leaving only a small trace of the grapes that had been stored there. The word "HA!" had left his lips, as he stopped shaking the bottle and he quickly pushed the envelope inside the bottle. He grabbed the cork and pushed it back into the bottle and said to himself: It is nearly symbolic, an empty envelope posted in a bottle on a stormy sea, with only a small hope that it ever will reach the person it is intended for.  If it by magic did, he had forgotten to write his name. He stopped and his face turned red. He had thrown the bottle as far away from the boat he could, like he was disgusted and mumbled. "I also forgot to write her name,  and I realize she is gone with a sea between us.

He narrowed his eyes and located the bottle floating on top of the waves. He felt an urgent need to shout to it, that it was drifting the wrong direction. Instead he shouted, "Send her my love and tell her, I will ..."   He never finished the sentence since there was so many things he wanted to say, and felt with sadness, that words shouted was way were too late.  He mumbled, "Why are simple things so complicated? Why can you hurt a person and it is not even visible?  Why do we suffer in silence and with no visible traces? Why are the stars most bright, when you are the darkest places?"  Even though he was sad, he laughed, and looked up in the sky and continued.  "Why does that damn fog hide the stars? Why are stars so bright, even they are so far away?  I am still close to a star in my life and I can't see a single trace of light. This proves that the darkest place is inside your own mind, where the stars in your life shine bright."

He turned around and walked back to his cabin like a man who had been hit by enormous sorrow, his steps were slow and mechanical.  His last words on the deck, "Please forgive me, I was foolish.", which was a quote from a book.