An entire lifetime of years blurred together in the span of a few minutes as you lay fading away on your death bed. Your breaths came short and labored, as if an insurmountable weight remained perched upon your chest. What was once vibrant skin had turned gray and gaunt, cursed by the leather of your elder years. Surrounding you was your family, at least those who wanted to be with you in your final moments. Your spouse sat closest, clutching your emaciated hand in theirs, the glint of your wedding bands shining together amongst intertwined fingers. Till death do us part. You smile softly at the thought, the only crystalline memory amongst the muddled mass of images long since forgotten. Silently, a solitary tear rolls down your cheek as at long last you pass over to the other side.Darkness comes to greet you but not in the ways you've come to expect. There was no light at the end of a tunnel, no pearly gates or eternal hellfire, simply... nothingness as your body drifted aimlessly. " Let me do it," I said. "I've got some experience with furler drums." Which I had.As the storm rose in intensity, Linda and I crept forward. I admired her dexterity. I also admired her butt as she went ahead of me. She was now wearing a swimsuit bottom and a white button-up shirt.The plan was that I would lay flat and to fix the jammed jib furler. She would sit at my feet and hand over tools. I lay on my stomach and began to explore the mechanism. I yelled, "screwdriver." Linda fished one from the sack. Then, as she was too short, she knelt between my legs, and leaned forward to hand it to me. As I twisted to look for the tool, the wind and her bent position opened the front of her shirt. Her naked breasts were exposed. They were perfect.Quickly I lay back and probed the furler. The problem was obvious. A setscrew on a retaining pin was out of place. A quick twist of the screwdriver and all would be fixed. I moved the screwdriver to the screw. I placed it in the slot. I didn't.
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