SYCT

Obviously I havent been writing in the ol' blog lately. But, it's Share Your Crap Tuesday.

This one, taken out of context, is a little odd. Everett and Mirka are still in the water, this time under the Seven Mile Bridge and almost to Ohio Key. I believe it's Ohio. I don't feel like pulling up Google Maps to find out.

NOTE: SUPER ROUGH FIRST DRAFT

He turned to see her squatting in the water. The waves occasionally splashing her in the face.

"Don't watch me."

He turned back around and started walking.

"Everett, stop. Don't make me have to run to catch up with you."

That was it. "Mirka, dammit!" He turned as she was pulling her pants back up. "You've been waddling along behind me for hours. It would do you some good to exert yourself in some way. When it's dark, you won't have me to blame."

"Shut up, Everett. You're just being an asshole. If I did try to catch up with you, you'd speed up. I'm struggling to keep up with you now. If you must know, I'm cramping. I'm having my period."

The anger in Everett's face softened and turned to fear. "You didn't just put blood in the water."

"A little. It's not like it's weeping out of me while I walk." She turned and pointed. "It's back there anyway."

He started walking back to her. "C'mon, let's get away from that. I'm sure you have some particles on you and sharks tend to be pretty keen about stuff like this."

He held her hand as they walked forward.

"See, now you're walking slower than we were earlier."

"Mirka, after you did that, I'm not going to splash at all."

She squeezed his hand. "This was important. You never get mad when it's important."

"No, this is nothing. It does concern me some though."

Mirka jerked, letting go of Everett's hand. Her arm splashed out of the water as she pointed. "Everett, Everett. There's a shark fin."

He squinted. He wasn't sure if he could see it. A tip. He could see a tip. "I can see it now. I just needed to focus."

Mirka rushed to get behind Everett, causing more splashes. "You can take care of it, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe he'll miss us. I did a book report on them in, like, fifth grade. He'll do a bump run."

The shark was clearly on an intercept course with them.

Everett reached into his pocket and pulled out a box cutter. "They want to see what we are. He can probably still smell you. And quit splashing."

The shark angled off. Everett hoped it didn't understand the vertical objects in front of it. It was probably young. It was the size of a dog. The size of Iris.

Turning quickly, the shark headed toward Mirka.

"Get behind me," Everett said as he pulled on Mirka's arm.

The shark was six feet away when Everett extended the blade on the cheap dollar box cutter. The mouth of the shark wasn't open. Maybe this was the bump run. Maybe he remembered right. Cut the bastard.

When the shark was three feet away, Everett lunged toward it, slicing forward from it's dorsal fin to the tip of it's nose.

It curled and splashed. Everett came down through it's eye, turning his arm he pulled the knife back up through the gills.

The shark tried to swim away and hit the sandy bottom, kicking up a cloud. Then it was gone.

"I have never heard you curse that much."

Everett turned to her, breathing heavy. "I cursed?"

And yes, he cursed up a storm. Mirka's next line tells him about it.