cwhicker
Day 179: The cave walls are light up in an eerie, phosphorescent way at night. I can't imagine I'll ever escape from here.
The engine stalled. Heart beating fast, Becca's eyes jumped to the gas gauge. Three-quarters of a tank left. Her surroundings were dismal.
Her face was leathery from many sun-filled days spent among the waves. Surfing became her, it wasn't a hobby or a habit, it was a part of who she was.