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Writer's pictureEmily Dixon

Boat Days

Waves crashed against the wood of the jetty. James stood at the front of the boat admiring the view. He loved days like these. Boat days, he called them. Nothing but the endless ocean and the sound of gulls.

 

He pulled the rope in and started the engine, pulling away from the small pier slowly, then building up speed. He had a favourite spot he always headed to on ‘boat days’, didn’t even need the map anymore.

 

Hefting the black bagged body over the edge wasn’t as hard as it used to be. He’d had practice.

 

He loved boat days.

 

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