Lost.

I am miles out in the ocean, treading water.  Looking one way I see a man on a raft, calling me to swim to him. I turn and look in the other direction. I see in the distance a shoreline. I'm becoming weary yet am uncertain as to which way to swim. If I don't make a decision I will eventually tire and drown. Land is so far away and I may not have the energy required to reach it. The raft is so much nearer; yet I am unsure of the man on the raft as he could easily paddle towards me, helping me, and I wonder what his motives are that he will not. And so I continue to tread water; knowing that the longer I do, the less likely I will be to survive.

Before the Storm