The Boy Who Drank the Ocean Dry (Continued)

"In a younger month, he unraveled a bit of rope that reminded him much of his grandfather's coarse beard and jumped in the sailboat to push himself away from the dock. "Spring, Sunday Morning, The 15th Year" He dated in his journal and continued writing, "It's half past eight and the clouds are beginning to gather around the sun... It's beginning to look as though someone is shining a flashlight in a dark room. I feel as though the Heavens were spotlighting me for a story." Then he closed his journal and returned his squinting eyes to the skies as drops began letting and longer thunders rumbled. A drop, and then three, and then seven, and eventually it did begin telling him a sad story. What struck him so much was the beauty in the birth of something that seemed terribly tragic, yet unusually pure and lovely. Those bright blue skies undressed themselves to reveal the nakedness of their nature and by the minute the blue bloomed bluer and day daubed dark. This wild feeling began unraveling in the breath from his lungs so violently that he nearly lost conscious during the squall of the storm. And this... this intolerable chill from a volley of rain drops that swam down his spine is what wooed him into beauty so brilliant that he lost all sense of balance and fell face forward into the Ocean. Sinking, and sinking, he felt a warm, tingling flush run throughout the front of his face and then into his chest, all until he could take no more of her beauty and resigned himself to her finish, where his body lay facing the sun and split between two sensations, one submerged and the other surfaced. Then, the Ocean stood still and all became quiet.

This was the day he fell in love.
On a Sailboat's journey during a Sunday morning of Spring in the 15th Year."

Feedback is still appreciated. (It is not over yet... there is still more to go)