English Poetry Of The Hidden Gustapo

book 1

There we were, trapped out at sea! Where was Susan? She had dived and hadn’t come back for me. The kids and I were now alone in this cave, and the water was rising. The rock tunnel was narrow and ran deep. We prayed that she had made it to safety, and that she would get help soon. What if she hadn’t made it? I couldn’t chance the dive with the kids. What if we drowned? Should I attempt to go it alone, and would I be able to return for the kids. There were muscles and barnacles clinging to the roof of the tunnel, indicating that it completely fills with water. If only we had oxygen tanks! If only I hadn’t been so damn stubborn in the first place! Now I had endangered the lives of those I love the most. Of those I was totally responsible for. I prayed the hardest, in between telling tales of sea pirates who had once buried their treasure in this cave. The kids were devastated, and they wouldn’t stop nagging me. They repeatedly asked me when we would be leaving. How could I possibly blame them? The boys were only eight and ten. It was ironic how I had led my family on an adventure with a possibly fake map, thinking that we may become rich and live comfortable lives. It would be better to live poor lives, than to die in this manner. What can possibly be worse than suffocating or drowning? How could one possibly remain calm in this situation? Should I have reassured the kids of a rescue, when we were bound for death? I prayed and prayed! We were now only one meter from the roof, and the water seemed to be rising more rapidly.