Three Days

Below is the beginning of a short story I am writing.

Three Days

A long, graceful wave peels along the point.  A light offshore wind blows as the sun breaks the horizon. Harper sucks in a deep breath, filling his nostrils with sweet, salty sea air.  As he closes his eyes a smile begins to stretch across his dry, cracked face.  This scene greeted Harper many times before, yet each morning like this was new and fresh, bringing with it a sense of contentment, a sense of peace.

Faint voices appeared in the distance.  Familiar, welcoming voices that make Harper’s head turn ever so slightly.  Eyes still closed, he reached down picking up his 9ft weapon of choice.  The board, like the voices, felt familiar, friendly.  The smell of wax mixed with the sea air, as the call of the waves begins to dominate his emotions.

“What you waitin’ for Harps?” jibed Blake as he ran past.

Harper’s eyes snapped open as he set off after Blake.  Theses eyes, nor the rest of Harper, knew he would be dead in three days.