All Decks On Hand

Drabble.

They want to call it a sin again. As if they hadn’t planted it in the first place. So they call it back to shore, churning the waves to bring it. That ship that had sailed is returning, or trying, to come back to dock. But it was left too long at sea. It drags besides the tide being in. And only a metaphor can make the ocean rise.

When that illusion does raise, too many eyes will uncover from their sleep. The stares will scare the chairs over backwards. Reality, then, won’t be a thing for them to keep.