Place

Swaying, moving with the ocean, gliding over the water. Our ship is a spec in the Atlantic ocean. The wind was calm. Nothing like a see saw, side to side, wave on top of wave hours earlier. I always thought the captain would hit them on purpose, maybe punishment for dinner service. The loud, rowdy crew we had in the kitchen. Through out the voyage the soft vibrations of the engines roaring could only be heard at night. Seeing the view, stars glistening, and the water rippling out the stern of the ship, you always felt free. Taking a deep breathe, bringing in the smell of the ocean. The salt water mixed with fish, dolphins, and underwater plants was a smell that brought back the memories of home, taking trips to beaches, breaking open the seaweed pods, and capturing crabs in buckets of water, along with soft, wet sand. The night is here everything is quiet, you could even here a mouse moving about, in the wall of quarters. The ship against the water rocks you to sleep, slowly drifting into sweet salty dreams.