Flash Fiction: Dry Breeze

The dry breeze stings my face.

This sand, this air, are slowly choking the life out of me. I want to get back to my old life. I had power, I had purpose, but most importantly, I had freedom. Here, I feel trapped. My injuries did not kill me, merely forced me to retire. However, I wish I had died before I retired. I wish I was buried at the sea, like a true captain.

I long for the darkness to find me, as much as I long for the sea mist to caress my face, one last time.


Word Count: 99

Prompts:

Friday Fictioneers 1st February, 2019

Carrot Ranch January 31: Flash Fiction Challenge

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