Floating Miracles by Savannah Weaver

The sky was empty, minus the small clouds on the horizon. Ne breeze was special enough to grace the harbor and surrounding area with its presence. The sea wilted and sat, calm and smooth, waiting for its friend to come and play.
No canoe shaped floating miracle thought the windless sea worthy of its time if it could not move their lazy bodies through the liquid of life. They gathered in the harbor, passing judgment on those different than them. In the end, those of the same race were placed together. One particular group--navy with white trimmings--were stationed a foot apart. Long peeling wooden pole stood guard and anchored their charges.
Two vertical planks of wood stretched out over the aqua surface, enabling the sailors to reach their vessels.
Vegetation outlined the horizon and a tower. The tower rose from a surrounding of short structures, making them look small and insignificant. A cone, the color of a lime, sat atop the tower, giving it a look of great importance, and completing the picture of calmness.