At The Helm

The seas tossed and turned.

Every minute felt like the end.

The waterlogged ship had already lost most of its crew, but the remnant struggled to keep it afloat.

The captain was gone.

The first mate was gone.

One man stood at the wheel, screaming orders. Who was he?

A cabin boy.

A mere cabin boy.

But in the voyage beyond the edges of the map, any leader would do.

All hands on deck. All effort mustered in the endless fight to keep the boat above the sea level.

The compasses spun. The sails tore. The stars died, buried in a stormy cloud grave.

Still, they listened to every order and followed every command. Feet eager to run at every direction.

On the same deck the cabin boy scrubbed every day.

Its fate thrust upon him for a final time.

And he accepted the call. To the bitter end. To the last breath.