The Razor-Sharp Ray of Sunlight Descriptive Essay

The razor-sharp ray of sunlight struck the back of Ami’s small, chapped, calloused hands. She is wrapped in a velvety beige robe, covered from her head to her knees. The cool, fresh oceanic air smells of sea salt and sin. Glistening beams of sunlight added a warm yellow hue to the deep ocean blue. Ami has been on this weathered wooden ship for three weeks now. The ship is ironically named The Hannibal of London, for there is nothing mighty about this vessel. Wood, rotting away like a whale carcass, is plentiful. Sodden floorboards creaked with every undulating wave. Ami stands silently, caged by her thoughts and chained by her ankles. Her joints are as weak as wax. Her face is petite and perfectly round; huge hazel eyes, leathery lips and a bulbous nose. She stands tall, her herculean physique towers most of the others. Everything on this boat is scarce. Food, water, and rest are all luxuries. Ami couldn’t remember the last time she tasted the sweet succulent nectar of a ripe mango. It is impossible to sleep over the noise of the symphony of shackles, sirening periodically and the waves applauding back. Robin, the ship’s captain, yells menacingly at the cabin boy to deliver six harsh whips to the slaves with the coarse cowhide belt.

Adrift.

Suddenly, Ami feels as if all time has stopped. The mythical blue birds froze mid-flight. The loud crashing waves suddenly died out, as if someone had suddenly cut the fine string keeping the Moon and the Earth locked in their cosmic slowdance. The sunrays soften their embrace on Ami’s skin. By some stroke of luck, the cabin boy froze. As if cast by Medusa herself, the boy turns into stone inch by inch. Ami looks up in surprise as much the same was happening to everyone around her. Except her. She slowly shut her tired eyes, head lowered near her shoulders. The sea was salty because it cried with her.

Awake.

Ami enters a serene state of rumination. The