THE SLAVE

The slave rowed…

And he rowed.

With every pull of his oar, more of the ocean sprayed over the edge of the boat, battering his sore and swollen face. He could taste the very salt that was seeping further into his skin, wounding it with every hour at sea.

He paused for a moment to let his BODY rest, perhaps for a moment too long, because too soon, he felt the burning sensation of a whip tearing through his flesh as the slave master sent the tail screaming through the lower half of his back. He sat bolt upright and grimaced in pain. 

“Row!”, shouted the slave master.