We all knew that the Izabel was going down
We all knew that we were going down with her
The eight of us gathered below deck
Rough men, seasoned sailors
Taking burning swigs of aguardente as we passed the bottle around
Listening to the wooden planks creak and snap as the wind screamed through the sails above
I'd always known that I'd die at sea
Better there than landlocked in a lifeless marriage
Better there than anchored to a woman
who didn't know me at all
Marcos stared at me from across the table
Set his glass down with deliberation
Pushed his chair back
Strode off wordlessly to his berth below
I rose uncertainly, torn
Even in this final hour
Even in these last few minutes
Still hesitating
And then my heart rose up into my mouth
Buoyed from where I had buried it many dark fathoms below
Hidden for so many years
Pickled in saltwater
I turned from the table, ignoring the stares of the other men
I made my way through the darkness and the muffled crashing of waves from above
He was there in the flickering candlelight
Waiting for me with a sad smile on his bearded face
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