It was 9 a.m. when Darryn finally made to to his own front door.  Tired and weather-beaten, he tried at the doorknob before fumbling for his keys. 

Usually, the ocean was his vice.  The open air and barren horizon gave Darryn a sense of hope, endless possibility – the freedom in knowing he was only a small piece of this large world.  He’d sit, perched in the crows nest, hair scattered in the wind and it was here that he felt alive.  So wildly alive in fact, that one – if allowed to get a closer look – would notice the brilliance in his sunken blue eyes come alive with blazing flame.

This particular journey, however, had far more excitement than he cared to remember.  Darkeness seemed to swallow the ship whole as Darryn’s large frame was thrown to wooden deck.  Rain pounded on his chiseled features hard, stinging, seering.  Unable to breath, he lay motionless, barely able to make out the shapes that scurried around him.

Suddenly, just as quickly as it came it was over.  Darryn awoke in the wake of a large ship.  The waves that once would have soothed him to sleep were now waking him to utter desolation.  The large ship was much too far away to notice his dwarfed human form.  For a brief instant, another, smaller ship seemed to appear; it was coming his way and Darryn tried to steady himself upright.  But in another instant, it was gone.  Leaving in its absense the heavy silence of helplessness.

Blue eyes engaged with a different fire as he scanned the dark waters for any trace of his ship, but there was nothing – nothing to hold onto but the frigid waters of the Atlantic and the setting sun.

And so, feeble muscles tore through icy water; Darryn began to swim.

He didn’t know what direction to swim; he didn’t know how far out he was or where his fellow crew members had gone.  All he could do was follow the setting sun, hoping the western shore he came from wasn’t too out of reach.  And when he couldn’t swim, he floated, hoping then that the current wouldn’t bring him too far off course.

Darryn had succumbed to the current when the ship came into view.  The name on the side read, OCEAN VISE.  It was a rather small lobster boat, indicating that the shore wasn’t too far away, but Darryn didn’t care anymore. Numb and tired, he just floated along.  At least the current seemed to be taking him to shore at this point, he thought.  But the boat neared him anyways, stopping long enough to hoist his heavy body aboard.  The men on board hurried to help, giving him blankets and water, stumbling over eachother on the small deck.  Darryn didn’t protest; he couldn’t.  He simply surrendered to exhaustion; he drifted into sleep.