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the young man had waited two days and two nights before daring to jump into the water. he had swum hardly to the whale, on thirty miles, maybe even more than fifty, he had lost the count. he had heard her sing, she had not stopped, not until he had reached her. once again washed-up on her back, like he had been on the beach, they had drifted away for many more miles, during a day, a night and a dawn. the young man had not a fucking idea of why he had trusted so much that animal that was not even talking the same language as him.

the dawn let his spot to sunny noon, hot like hell, and the young man really wanted to let himself die. likely, it was his destiny, the cetacean even if he was taking him under his shelter, had not understood that he was not made to live on the salty water by his side...

the young man heard a horn's noise ripped the atmosphere. too out of breath to jumped out, he just rolled over on his back, discerning wood noises, clicking of steel, and voices that sounded like what used to be his.

Human voices.

the whale had led him to another fishing boat.

sounds of a whale → junhaoWhere stories live. Discover now