March Writing Challenge - The Umbrella

I decided to change up my daily posts for the month. I love the writing prompts from "The Story Shack" so when I came across them again, I thought I'd change it up!

(This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.)

"The Umbrella"

Word count: 400 - ✔ (405 words)

Genre: Crime ✔

Character: A philosopher ✔

Material: An umbrella ✔

Sentence: "How do you feel?" ✔

Bonus: Your character is shipwrecked. ✔

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My new boat went down right near the shore. I wasn't worried about being stranded as the Coast Guard frequently went through this area as it was known for harboring the ill-kept men of the seas. They weren't all that bad, but their minds were far more lowly than my own. Who could compare to the mind of I? It was sharpened with discipline, akin to a Vulcan. If I knew such a species existed, I'd live among them, enjoying the logic, order, and wisdom they lived by.

I had learned to swim when I was just three years old. The fact of that had come in handy when getting to shore. It appeared that my boat had been sabotaged before I had left the marina that morning. I was able to grab my umbrella, some waterproof matches, and my small lunch pail as it went down. To be blunt, I don't know how I had managed to make it so far, or had not noticed the work that had been done to my fair vessel. My mind had been dwelling upon the celestial beings I had been observing the night before. To think that they had been used to guide us for centuries was astonishing to say the least. Especially before the days of modern mapping technology.

I digress. And set up a small camp for myself, right on the beach so I should be able to flag a Coast Guard cutter down. Aside from waves on the beach, the air is quiet. Breeze blows slightly through the warm air. Quite thankful for the day in which I am temporarily stranded, I lay under my umbrella for a bit of rest while keeping my ears open for a boat to go by.

“How do you feel?” snarls a voice above me.

I jump to my feet and am greeted by one of the low-life of these islands.

“Just fine.” I reply calmly. “How do you feel stealing my umbrella?”

I point to the object he has removed from my possession. He turns and runs. My umbrella is never seen again. The Coast Guard come by a bit later. As I had predicted, they routinely patrol the area. I settle into a seat, waiting for a ride back to the marina. I'm in no particular hurry as life is short. As was the life of my boat at the bottom of the sea.