One time, I decided - like a fool - to kayak out to an unmanned oil derrick I could barely see on the horizon. I had no idea how far out I managed to get, but I lost sight of shore. I was out so far that the waves, though not cresting, were well over 5-6 feet in height. Kayaking uphill has got to be one of the oddest sensations to experience in this life.
As I arrived at the derrick, I realized that it was much, much larger than I had anticipated. A single one of its' supports was larger around than my entire condo. As the massive swells broke upon the leg of the oil derrick, a vast chasm of emptiness would open in the water and I could see down length of the strut for maybe 50 feet until all was lost in the blackness. But within that barnacle encrusted blackness, there were fish thrashing about that were far larger than my little 12ft kayak. There other things down there too, living things that skittered around the metal that I couldn't quite see, but they filled me with dread nonetheless.
At the last moment, I realized I was being sucked into the hole, drawn down into that endless pit of nameless horrors and with all my strength I paddled up and out of it before the next wave smashed me against the massive support beam.
It was many hours before I once again reached the shore. And though I once again stood upon the firm safety of solid land, I remained afraid. For I had gazed long into the abyss and it had stared right back at me with countless, lidless, soulless eyes.
___Nickname___ on June 12nd, 2017 at 01:08 UTC »
"Inpenetrable"
Just leave that to Rico Rodriquez
TeaserTuesday on June 12nd, 2017 at 01:39 UTC »
Mother base usually impenetrable unless Cypher has something to say about it.
GoliathPrime on June 12nd, 2017 at 01:56 UTC »
One time, I decided - like a fool - to kayak out to an unmanned oil derrick I could barely see on the horizon. I had no idea how far out I managed to get, but I lost sight of shore. I was out so far that the waves, though not cresting, were well over 5-6 feet in height. Kayaking uphill has got to be one of the oddest sensations to experience in this life.
As I arrived at the derrick, I realized that it was much, much larger than I had anticipated. A single one of its' supports was larger around than my entire condo. As the massive swells broke upon the leg of the oil derrick, a vast chasm of emptiness would open in the water and I could see down length of the strut for maybe 50 feet until all was lost in the blackness. But within that barnacle encrusted blackness, there were fish thrashing about that were far larger than my little 12ft kayak. There other things down there too, living things that skittered around the metal that I couldn't quite see, but they filled me with dread nonetheless.
At the last moment, I realized I was being sucked into the hole, drawn down into that endless pit of nameless horrors and with all my strength I paddled up and out of it before the next wave smashed me against the massive support beam.
It was many hours before I once again reached the shore. And though I once again stood upon the firm safety of solid land, I remained afraid. For I had gazed long into the abyss and it had stared right back at me with countless, lidless, soulless eyes.