On the Wings of Hope : Prose

- At first to the south, and then to the east, wasn’t that clear enough ? Or do you need an instruction for each and every stroke ?

- Dunno need, - the captain has taken offence. - I’ll somehow manage it myself, move away !

And, having this said, he has flopped on vessel’s prow and started to fiercely beat water with oars, as if waves of salty moisture were capable to extinguish a fire, periodically inflaming his soul.

- And where are we sailing now ?! – the Mistress has exclaimed both unceremoniously and pathetically five minutes after the supervision over this nonsense. – There is a north over there ! You have not even turned a boat !

- If you are such a smarty one, take oars and row yourself ! – the captain bawled. - You cannot even appreciate the help !

- I don’t want such “help” even free of charge. You all are just useless, I have to do it all myself !

And with these words the Mistress has taken seat on a stern, and started to make elegant pirouettes on water with oars.

A stroke. And yet again. And several tens of strokes as well. Whooowwwhhh ! – and a wave, which has suddenly rolled on a vessel, washed away half of stock, which was located there, having not spared even banal food.

- What have you made, asshole ! – the Mistress cried out. – All our emergency rations were there, for evil day prepared !  The last gifts of my mother were there ! Not for you, for my children all that I’ve prepared, by grains collected ! What a clumsy one are you, indeed !

- As if I had not did it for children ! – the captain frowned. – And, yeah, if that’s so important for you, you must have fastened it better !

- So I did ! Attached everything, tied it all up ! Who might have known, that you will be able to wash it all away in a single flash !

- The luggage was washed away by a wave, - the Middle has had enough time to interrupt the skirmish. – A man cannot command waves.

- The storm is coming, - the Elder has noticed. – I can already see in on the horizon.

- Just look at what you have done ! – as though not hearing him, the Mistress continued to exclaim. - Has washed away our stock, woken the Younger.

- Yep, yep, - the Younger brother sniffed from a boat’s corner, still opening his eyes. – Has woken, woken ! Bad, nasty !

… and even managed to water our cat !

- Miaow ! – said the cat, who has just got out from under a seat and started to lick own wet wool  extensively. - Miaow ! – she has repeated once more and with a reproach in her cattish eyes stared at all the heroes of element’s triumph.

- You row in opposite directions, - the Elder has sarcastically noticed. - Are you planning to continue or going to stop right away ? The storm is already close.

- Storm, storm ! Mummy, mum ! Save, rescue ! – the Younger began to cry.

- Now, my little one, just a moment ! All these dolts have not even a slightest idea, that we must row to the south ! Only mum knows it all, can do it all, predicts it all ! She will help, she will rescue !

- Miaow ? – a stained cat has interrogatively stared at her.

- A storm, however, you haven’t foreseen, - the Elder hemmed. – Come on, let me replace you, - he told to the Mistress, - and unceremoniously took one oar. The Middle took the second.

- We will sail to the north tomorrow, three altogether, - the Elder stated, addressing the captain. – And now let’s row to the east all as one, - Middle has added as well. – Ok, let’s go !

A stroke. And the next one. And several more hundreds of them.

They have almost reached the coast – but the storm has caught them nevertheless.

It flanged the boat and began to whirl it, pouring with waves. It washed away another part of a luggage stock. It, finally, for the second time didn’t spare an unfortunate cat, who had already started to dry up on a wind. It struck captain’s face several times with its waves. It reached a stern with Elder and Middle brothers. It poured with water a screaming Younger one.

In short, it was rigid. But not omnipotent.

The storm has come to an end, and the coast has finally appeared. Just a two hundred meters. Just a leaking and dilapidated boat. Just a wet cat, rubbing about feet in a vain attempt to warm oneself.

- Retards ! – a Mistress has shouted short after coming to her senses.  - Broken a boat ! Washed away the luggage ! Watered the Younger one ! I have no more powers, monsters ! – and with these words she has seized Younger brother and together with him has jumped overboard, strenuously swimming to a coast in a southern direction.

Three remained heroes of the day (four, considering a wet cat as a passenger) with the last bit of strength finally sailed to a coast, taking out water, accumulating in a worn out boat, in a process.

- So, where are we going to travel now ? – The ex-captain interrogatively looked at them.

- To the West, - the Elder brother said confidently. – Storm warnings are usually announced there in advance.

- Well, and I then, probably, will travel East, for the sake of variety, - the Middle one decided.