Perfect Day

It was a perfect day to be out on the lake. The grey-white clouds pranced on the blue canvas. A mellow yellow sun gayly played hide and seek with them. So, Rachel and Melvin decided to take their Boston Whaler out for a dip in the bay. The Ferrari ate up the miles and soon they reached Lake Peyto where their luxury yacht ‘Quiet Sail’ was anchored.  

“Ah! Isn’t it beautiful here?” said Melvin as he parked the car.

“And luckily no one to shatter the tranquility,” Racheal said. She smiled as she stepped off the car, “Thanks to the Super Bowl game, we have the lake to ourselves.” She thanked her lucky stars. 

Once Melvin was ready to take her out, he called out to Rachel one last time. “You sure you don’t want to join me?”

She shook her head and smiled as she settled in her foldable deck chair.

“No, thank you. I am quite content to sit here and enjoy my book and a drink.”

“You can do both on the boat. It’s a magnificent day.”

But when she did not relent, Melvin powered the boat towards the center of the lake. I’ll throw in a line for a couple of hours and see what I catch. Some fresh fish tonight.   

An hour into the tranquil outing, the wind picked up. Rachel looked up from her book and realized she had been so engrossed in it that she hadn’t realized the weather had turned for the worse. Instinctively she looked across the lake at the boat. The whole 30’ of pristine white was bobbing on the rising swells. 

The clouds roiled over. The wind started howling. It seemed they were murmuring something indistinctive. She jumped up from her chair and raced to the water’s edge. She kept her eyes on the boat. Her heart thudded and she tried to ignore all that was going around her. But the murmur grew. The water became choppy. It felt as if the clouds and winds and the waves were all rushing towards her. They were accusing her. But she didn’t care, she only cared about the boat and the man on the boat. 

The murmur became a chant. She could hear it over the wind and the thunder. 

Just as the chant reached its crescendo, the boat exploded into a million pieces. And the wind and the waves in unison, howled a word……

***

Rachel jolted up right in her bed. She thought she heard someone screaming and realized it was her. Her heart was pounding. She was drenched in sweat. Oh My God! It’s just a nightmare…..

Shakily, she walked down the stairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. The mansion was eerily quiet. She turned with the glass in her hands. It slipped and shattered. Written in the condensation on the French windows was the word – ‘MURDERER’. 

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Shweta Singh
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