Mumbai Girl Reshma

’ She said, opening her sleeping bag. ‘You’re not going to sleep in your clothes are you?’ Brad asked. ‘No. I was going to take off my boots and then undress inside the sleeping bag.’ ‘That is trickier than you think. I’ll tell you what, seeing as its you, I’ll look away.’ ‘You promise not to peek?’ ‘I promise.’ He said, turning his back on her and staring into the darkness. There was the rustle of clothing being removed and then the sound of the sleeping bag zipper closing. ‘You can turn around now Brad, and thank you.’ Kelly called. ‘I think that may have been worse than watching.’ Brad said turning back around. Kelly’s face was peering out from the tightly zipped sleeping bag. ‘How do you mean?’ ‘I mean my imagination ran riot listening to the rustles and zips.’ He grinned once more, seeing the look of discomfort on her face. ‘By the way, you might want to turn your boots upside down. That way there’s less chance of them being invaded by creepy crawlies.’ Kelly shuddered and. From there, the swabs could pull it and turn the top beam to help steer the ship in the wind. The angle was steep. Normally it would be a fairly easy climb but she’d done it many times before on the Kestrel. After tying off the rope it was easier just to climb down than to turn around on the beam and scootch back to the mast. This was a different story though. The rope was wet, and old, and very well might break. That was the gamble. She grabbed the rope, swung herself down, hooked her leg over it and slid. It broke. Not from the top, thankfully, but from where it was anchored on the aftcastle. The large eyelet it was tied to pulled itself out of the rotted wood and the rope was suddenly free. With nothing anchoring the rope while she slid down it, she suddenly found herself swinging back toward the prow, completely the wrong direction. “Fuck, fuck, fuck meeeee!” she cursed. She held onto the rope as tightly as she could as she hit the shredded mainsail with a wet thud and tore right.
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