Rocky: Hey Bullwinkle, we’re in real trouble now!
Bullwinkle: Oh good, Rocky! I hate that artificial kind!

A quick review of the Five Commandments per Shawn Coyne :
Inciting incident (causal or coincidence)
Progressive Complication (active or revelatory turning point)
Crisis (question – best bad choice or irreconcilable good)
Climax (answer to the question)

I have 100 days until my life changes. In those 100 days I put forth that I will write every day while I while away the 2400 hours until that change at least 100 words that include the five commandments above. If I cannot make each day, I will double up on the days that I do make it. I will fight the resistance, and earn my life change.

Here we go:
Ariella swam along the channel that lead from the bay to the open ocean, dodging the occasional sailboat and its wake, on her way to find breakfast in the cool coastal waters. The seagulls flying overhead informed her that a school of tasty fish had arrived. Feeling hungry and racing to get there before the rest of her pod, she leaped up out of the water to catch a glimpse of the water ahead. The sunlight reflecting of the waves made her jump up again, just to see it.
A loud motor sounded nearby, but she ignored it, jumping up one last time to look. The seagulls seemed to be congregating off to the right.
She landed hard on the pointed prow of the sparkly orange boat and spun off to the right with enough force to throw her into the unforgiving rocks that lined the causeway.
The boat swerved and bounced, its pilot yelling something to its passengers. It didn’t stop or turn to see if she were injured, but made its hurried way out to sea, leaving a grease stain behind like a foul stench.
The wake of the boat and the ocean kept her from hitting the rocks or being knocked into the boat’s twin twirling rotors.
She floated on the surface, stunned and slightly ashamed. Her podmates would chide her for not paying attention. Again.
She realized her tail hurt. She ducked her head under the water, noting the blood flowing from a scrape across her right fin.
The tide called the water of the channel out, pulling her closer to the rocks. More powered boats, a whole pack of them stinking up the water, motored quickly toward her position. If she swam back, she could be safe in the calmer waters of the bay, or if she swam out – seeing as she only had a few meters more to go before the surf – she could still get her breakfast.
At the last moment, she dove to avoid them, hugging the muddy bottom of the channel.
The dark water of the channel prevented her from seeing much. She scanned it instead, and noted a large school of something – maybe her podmates, coming from the direction of the bay. Resigned to being chided, and for loosing her chance at getting first snatch at breakfast, she moved toward them. And then paused in shock.
The first shark smiled toothily at her as it casually swam past, it’s 15′ length dwarfing her mere 10.
She didn’t turn to see if it would circle around and come back to attack her. She knew it would.
She shot to the surface, barely missing another powerboat, and sprinted toward the open ocean.