The Lucky One

Thomas asked me today what had I earned and I answered, “Nothing, everything I got I got by luck.”

“That’s a fancy, muchacho,” he said, “you’re not that lucky.”

Then I remembered this:

‘Till, gaining that vital centre, the black bubble upward burst; and now, liberated by reason of its cunning spring, and, owing to its great buoyancy, rising with great force, the coffin life-buoy shot lengthwise from the sea, fell over, and floated by my side. Buoyed up by that coffin, for almost one whole day and night, I floated on a soft and dirgelike main. The unharming sharks, they glided by as if with padlocks on their mouths; the savage sea-hawks sailed with sheathed beaks. On the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan.’

“I guess I earned at least one pleasure,” I said.

“That’s the one I was thinking about,” he said.