Saturation Point: A Novella by Kelli Jae Baeli

Author:Kelli Jae Baeli [Baeli, Kelli Jae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lesbian Literati Press
Published: 2016-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

Corker Island

None of my rituals and mind-tricks were working. I'd slept very little, and got up early to work, but I couldn't write. The agitation was crawling on me like emotional cockroaches.

It didn't help that Trey Proctor had been sending an email every day to ask about my progress, under the guise of checking on me. The words had failed me on the page today, and I hadn't found the other words to tell him about my literary trajectory, either.

Maybe what I needed was a little more relaxation. I opted for a few hours of picture-taking along the coast, avoiding any possible run-in with Kavina in town.

Tiring quickly, I returned to the tower cottage and fed Crumpet and then curled up with her on the bed for a nap. I was having a cat-day. Maybe that should be a new ritual, I decided.

When I woke, it was just after noon.

I stepped outside with a fresh cup of coffee, and noticed the kayak. My eyes went to Corker Island.

Resolved, I got dressed, donned the sling strap of my Canon, and carried the kayak down to the shore.

The sky was festooned with fluffy white clouds, gray clouds airbrushed over the sky to the east.

I worked the double oar into a rhythm and enjoyed the feel of the muscles in my shoulders and arms. This would be a good way to tone up, if I did it on a regular basis.

Halfway to the island, I noticed the overcast gray sky, and soon thereafter, it began to rain. I put the camera underneath my sweater, and kept paddling.

Within minutes, the rain had become a problem. Thunder rumbled across the darkling sky, and lightning strobed against my eyes. I paused, looking back at the mainland. Farther to go back, than continue on, so I ducked my head and paddled harder, hoping to reach the tiny shore before getting struck by a thunderbolt.

The wind nearly sent me to the ground, as I tugged the kayak up onto the shore. At the tree line, deeper into the island, I saw a flock of Puffins, huddled for warmth and protection under the overhanging limbs.

Stepping away from the kayak, a deafening crack pained my eardrums, and suddenly I could not see anything but white light. I felt the hair bristling on my arms and neck and heard the cracking sounds. Not more lightning.

Something else.

I squinted through the torrent of rain and saw the shadow coming toward me.

A tree. A tree was falling.

I dove out of the way and heard it crash into the kayak, smashing it with a sound like a million hardboiled egg shells under the foot of a giant.

Scrambling up, I ran into the cover of trees, scattering the huddled flock of puffins.

Drenched, my cardigan waterlogged and weighting me down, I took it off, wrung it out, and hung it on a stub of branch.

I peered out at the kayak-killing tree, the rain soon sizzing into it, wisps of smoke rising from the burnt portion of bark, and getting lost in the sheets of water falling from the sky like a waterfall.

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