TITLE :A Line in the SandGENRE :Suspense
Eve and two other survivors of a shipwreck are on a small, damaged craft sailing, hopefully, for land. It is night, and Eve needs to, ahem, relieve herself.
Eve stepped over the sleeping forms and walked to the rear of the boat. The wind whipped her long hair away from her face, and she had to brace herself. Pulling down her shorts and panties, she crouched over the hole at the stern.
Suddenly she fell. There was a microsecond of realizing she was off balance, and then the abrupt shock of hitting water. Its coolness surged through her like icy electricity. She clutched her shorts, struggled to tug them over her knees into place and at the same time kick upward to the surface. She churned, bewildered by the darkness. Which way was up?
The blackness pressed in on her and terror gripped her chest. She could never be alone in the dark, never. The air in her lungs squeezed for release. She had to let it go. Bubble by bubble it bruised its way down her throat and through her lips. Her body went limp. Her consciousness swirled like tub water spiraling down the drain. In one last effort, she clawed at the ocean, willing herself not to breathe in.
Her head broke the surface, and she gasped at the air. Oxygen burned the lining of her throat and lungs like iodine on a raw sore. She choked and wheezed and coughed up seawater until finally she could breathe.
The boat. Where was it? She twisted one way, then the other, until she saw it, a smudge against the stars as it sped away from her.