The winds ripped apart our sails. The storm roared vivaciously. Tides rose. With verve, waves crushed against against the sides of the ship as it rocked with unsteadiness and an infusion of uncertainty.
We brazenly stared into each others eyes spotting poker faces, in reality, just but a facade to cloak the shuddering fear beneath.
There was everything to fight for, not once did we break sweat. Not once did either of us take the high road. The distance between us could have been obliterated by a stretch of either’s finger. We chose to lay inert like a statue on a plinth. The ship keeled, the two of us aboard and all I could say I was;
“Let me have the frying pan”
All you said was;
A tussle of egos.