Writing Samples
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Ed
Almost any given day, you can find 84-year-old Ed Lormand sitting on his porch, his eyes fixed on the vast expanse of blue that lies before him. The Atlantic Ocean. He’s owned a home in the coastal city of Fernandina Beach, Florida for almost 60 years.
A man of many trades, Lormand went to college at The Julliard School, and then went on to teach at Dekalb Community College in Georgia. He got his pilot’s license early on in life.
But he has always found himself at peace with the sea, ever since he watched his dad use an 11-foot dinghy to fish for oysters in his native Louisiana. He purchased a sailboat of his own 46 years ago, a 28-foot, single-engine and single-masted boat he named “Lormand’s 2nd Folley.”
Irma
The afternoon announcement bell came on. Everyone in the class stood still and listened. All the students had been searching the Duval County Schools webpage for any updates. They had been hitting refresh every 15 minutes. Principal Majova’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker.
“In anticipation of Hurricane Irma, all school in Jacksonville, Florida has been cancelled both tomorrow and Friday.”
The Ocean
Ocean
The world in front of me an invisible room, the ocean a few feet away
A wall too far to touch, her whooshing strong enough to seduce grown men.
Strangers to her might hear a friendly “Shhhhhhhhh…”
But I hear a dad signing Jimmy Buffett while helping his kin swim for the first time.
He gently pushes me around on an old, worn blue boogie board
Hoping, knowing one day I would become just as fond of the gentle crashing.
The splashing brings me back to the present again.
The soft sand squishes in between my toes. I’m surrounded by thousands of unique shells.
The sea calls yet again, whooshing and lapping at my feet as if to say “come join me.”
I look out and see massive waves crashing on top of my younger self.
“I’m gonna jump over this one!” young me yells to his friends. The wave knocks me over.
I look over the whooshing and see shrimping trawlers in the distance.
Somewhere aboard, the captain looks out into the sea in awe of the vast expanse that seems like nothing but waves.
But deep down, the captain and I know this nothing holds the treasures few have ever seen.
The Race
Gannon felt a shaking sensation. His eyes opened to see his teammate Austin standing over him,
trying to wake him up. It was the day before. Gannon and his four other teammates would be
racing in Head of the Charles tomorrow. It was his second time doing so. The first was
unforgettable. Gannon knew the race would be even better. Head of the Charles wasn’t like other
races; it was more an event. All other races he had rowed in required an attitude of “all
business”. This was the one where coaches tell you to enjoy it while you can. Most rowers never
get a chance to race here.