Buried at Sea :: Creative Writing Essays

Buried at Sea      Ahh, t presents no wind today, sighed Cobi as he tacked his sail around andheaded for the shore.  Cobi was a sailor.  Cobi wasnt a typical sailor, Cobiwas a bailiwick Championship winning sailor.  A sailor who thrived on high windsand ungainly seas, who has accomplished e very(prenominal)thing there is to accomplish inCanadian sail.  He is the envy of every young sailor and child.  They wish,aspire, and dream to be like Cobi.      Hii Cooobiii, wines Julie.  Julie that happened to be standing on thedock of the Yacht Club as Cobi tied his luminous, new, nine-thousand dollar boatto its mooring. Julie,  was just one part of Cobis man-sized female entourage, whofollowed and prayed on his every move and breath.  Cobi Jones was not only veryskilled in the nautical art of sailing, he was the most popular, the trumplooking, and even one of the smartest kids in tame.     Hi Julie , moaned Cobi in reply, what are you doing here?     A shocked, but smiling Julie answered, Just came to see ya.     Well visit hours are over, Cobi uttered as he pushed past Julie andtrekked up the scratchy shore to his home.  His home  His home was a picturesquearray of hand-crafted pillars and intricate woodwork that beautified even theaesthetic sandy ocean brink that encompassed it.  As always, after sailingpractise, he was greeted by a hurtle and a wave from his father returning fromwork.  His father was a partner in Jones, Jefferson, and Deveau, the mostsuccessful law firm in Nova Scotia.  He was able to fund Cobis sailing careerfrom the start, and his money played a very large role in Cobis sailing successand popularity.  other than Cobis majestic surroundings, Cobi led a typicaleighteen year-old after school life.  He ate, did homework, spoke to his manyfriends the phone, and then fell asleep with a remote cont rol in his grip.  Thisevening wasnt an exception.         The following day at school, Cobi was greeted by all of his friends andsailing cohorts and he sauntered to his first class.  The greetings ranged fromHey man, to Whats up, and to the simple Hi.  Cobi habitually respondedwith a mumbled Yo. Sometime after an insightful, and stimulate lecture fromhis favourite English teacher Dr. Noble, he ran into his friend and sailingcrewman Greg.  Hey man, whatre ya doin after school today? asked Cobi.     Nothin man, its too messy out.  That hurricanes gonna earn tonight youknow, replied Greg.     I know man, thats why I asked