Every prose has its thorn (posting challenge: day two)

The S.S. Zaquinas sets out from the harbor of Inspiration, guided along by the strong wind of Motivation. It is a fine day for sailing; the gulls are swooping about in a gullsome manner, and the bright sun of Good Intentions warms the deck. Indeed, the easy sailing continues for quite some time, but the day gradually darkens. Confusion patters against the deck, Doubt cracks in the sky, and the thunderheads of Poor Planning roll in, but the vessel still sails on. Some of the Sentence rigging snaps, and the scurrying crew quickly patches it with Comma splices. These shabby constructions fall apart, and the crew realize in horror that there is not enough Style on board to save the rigging. A howling wind of Disillusionment arises, shearing the Plot mast in half, taking the hastily prepared Theme sails along into the roiling sea. The vessel runs aground on the Rock of Incompletion, and remains there for several weeks.

After some time, the crew begin salvage work, saving what they can from the wreckage. A rickety raft of Compromise coalesces from the shambles of the ship. The crew pack as much of the remaining supplies as possible on the raft, taking extra care to leave room for the paltry Dignity that survived the wreck. Narrowly avoiding jagged Editing reefs, the makeshift vessel finally arrives at the intended destination: the port of Completion. Along the way, they have lost men to neglect and weeks to distraction, but they arrive nevertheless.

With their troublesome journey complete, the crew realize they are one-dimensional puppets in a ham-fisted metaphor and go drinking.

THE END