Talented writer Revis Edgewater from 33 Grams of Blog leaves us spellbound this week with an original story based on a quote from my all time favourite book. This is his second part of our Cheer Pepper collaboration - the first can be found on his blog here. “On the sea he wished to meet it, if meet it he must. He was not sure why this was, yet he had a terror of meeting the thing again on dry land.
Anyone looking at Marlowe’s Pride had to think that Marlowe was either short- sighted or very forgiving. With a battered hull only a mother could love, the little trawler cowered low behind the flagstones of Owenstown harbour, sneaking a random peek over the harbour wall as it bobbed gently in the shallow waters. Most of the larger vessels had been grounded for the down season, while the lighter craft like the Marlowe touted their wares for the sightseeing crowd.
I see them scurry and flee. They race past me, sometimes crossing paths, at other times following in the wake of another. Each one a little protective cocoon battling against the overwhelming force of the steel giant as it carves a path through them. With my cheek pressed against the window it seems that they’re rushing towards me, the little droplets of rain water, desperate to escape the destination for which I’m headed.
A reinvention of Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Brave Tin Soldier” The salvage vessel ‘Blue Mariner’ eased gently into the docking port of the orbiting Eoli mining station. Whining turbines spun into life as recycled air was pumped into the airlock, re-pressurising the umbilical corridor. After a few moments the noise subsided and the outer hull door slid open. Captain Nathan Lambeth clambered out of the airlock, grinning from ear to ear.
Onutė left the house early with her brother Antanas. Their mother had sent them to gather wild mushrooms and berries, typical of the Dzukija region in southern Lithuania. These they hoped to sell to highway travellers. If they made enough money, Father had promised, they would all travel to the Kaziukas fair next sunday. Onutė loved the fair. It was an arts and crafts fair organized every year on the sunday before St Casimir’s Day - the patron saint of Lithuania.
I scratch a long nail across my chin as I contemplate the blank page before me. The words are on vacation, out of the office. Frustrated, I knead my temple, trying to coax them back to me. My skin is taught, over stretched. Outside a lawnmower, churning its way over my neighbour’s lawn, drones against my thoughts. I need to cut that nail. The white space bleeds onto my eyes. Lazy Sunday.