"You can let go of the railing, Case." Dan barely took his eyes off the horizon, watching Casey grip the rail like his life depended on it.
Throwing a look at his partner, Casey asks, "Should we be tilting this much?"
"Yes, Danny. Tilting."
"Casey, Casey, Casey," Dan chuckles out. "We're on a boat. It's called listing. You're a wordsmith. You should know this."
"Yeah, well, I'm used to my feet on dry land." Casey eased his grip so color came back to the first knuckles of each hand. "I can't believe I let you talk me into going out on this...thing."
Danny looked over the sailboat he'd rented for their weekend excursion. "It's a nice boat."
"Whatever, Danny." Casey turned back, looking at the waves crashing against the hull of the boat, the slanted skyline of New York City a ways in the distance.
"Hey Casey?" Dan called, making some adjustments to navigation. "The wind's about to change."
Casey looks around, wondering what Dan's statement signifies. "Yeah? So?"
"Casey?" Dan called back, adding "Duck!" just as the wind changed direction. Casey followed instructions just in time, the sail whipping through the torrid wind, dragging the mast just above his head.
After a few beats, Casey looked up at Dan, giving him a 'what the hell?' look.
Dan just shakes his head and winks at Casey. "I told you I could sail."