[ MP ] The Tragically Hip - Nautical Disaster

The French lighthouse was breathtaking. A 1500's stone and mortar affair sitting on the edge of a precipice surrounded by a patchy green field full of daisies. 
 
 Against the Clear blue sky and sea of that summer afternoon, the lighthouse looked like a needle, stitching the Heavens and the waters together. 
 
 There were no tourists on that day. For if there had been, and if they had also climbed to the top of the lighthouse, they would have noticed the Lifeboat approaching and the overturned and sinking ship in the distance. 
 
 They might've imagined the poor sailors stuck in the boiler room, uselessly treading water, as their faces come into contact with the ceiling of the cabin, with the water still rising, as if to mock their futile efforts. 
 
 As their mouths began filling with water, they would desperately claw at the hull, tearing the nails off their fingers as they grinded them down to bloody stumps. 
 
 But then, they'd take a breath of water, and stop fighting. The peace washes over them, and the sailors would know that they were drowning. And it was okay. It was peaceful, it was serene. It was inevitable. Then, the relief would flood over these poor souls, and with every minute that passes, the burning in their lungs gets a little less intense, and the calm becomes a little stronger.... 
 
 `` JIM'' susan yelled. `` Are you listening? I said I'm not keeping it'' 
 
 `` Sorry,'' I mumbled, `` I was imagining somewhere I'd rather be''. 
 
 `` Yeah?'' Susan sounded annoyed. `` Where?'' 
 
 `` South of France''. Susan started speaking again, but I could n't hear her. Her voice sounded just like nails scratching against metal. 
 
 I went back to the lighthouse, and soon enough, even her scratchings were drowned out by the roar of the ocean.
