A man took out a loan, called a crew, found a boat, and set sail.
He had heard rumours of it.
He knew it was out there and he was willing to go across the world to find it.
He was determined to be the one to find it.
He had to be.
Blinded to everything else by his ambition to find it, he would regularly fail to notice small things like his crew members getting sick, the kitchen running through the food, and the boat’s growing list of needed repairs.
The man didn’t notice.
He pressed on to find it.
The food reserves grew smaller and smaller.
The crew’s spirit was at rock bottom after two of the crew members passed away and had to be thrown overboard.
The man pressed on to find it. He knew it was close.
And then it happened and it didn’t take much.
With the boat in desperate need of repair, all it took was an average wave from an average storm and the boat broke apart.
The man swam for his life and, miraculously, found his way to the shore of an island.
The boat and the crew were nowhere in site.
That didn’t matter to him though, because he was sure this was the island — the island where it supposedly was.
On the island, he began to explore.
He couldn’t believe it.
There it was.
He hadn’t known exactly what it was, but now that he could see it he didn’t even know what to think of it.
There, before his eyes, was a cove.
And there it was anchored in the cove.
A boat, just like the one he had taken for his journey, only new.
He made his way onto the boat.
To his surprise, it was even complete with food — enough to feed him for the rest of his life.
The boat was beautiful and comfortable.
The man spent the rest of his days upon that boat, fully fed but incredibly lonely.
He didn’t know quite what to think of it.
Hi, I’m Michael and this is my daily project where I write about diverse ideas.
This is Dose #60.