Well on this boring friday night when its far too cold to go out and I'm far too lazy to study I think instead I'll write something mostly incoherent, or incoherent to most, whichever fits the best...

What a boat and what a rough and tumbling sea and so close from shore where the argument began.

To one she was an inland soul on her first trip out to sea. She had ventured there alone, from the peaks of a solitairy mountain top. And two he was harboured mate, old and weathered long to the waves. But never had he ventured so much as a league out from the land.

These two would otherwise be strangers, had they not passed by that night and happened unto this boat that promised both eternity but could offer truth to only one.

They met upon the bow where already the shore could not be seen. She asked of him from where he came and he explained of his and him and of how he held this transport to take him there at once. And he then asked of she her ilk and whether it was the same. After some reflection she replied that though she did not know the barge and could not be sure at once, that still it was the same. He seemed content with this, and he looked on her like kindred with a smile upon his face. But she was not satisfied by his, and took the look to be not understood, and so she explained that it was not perhaps of name the same from which she had first come, but that it was the same nevertheless. At this, he furrowed his brow at her and looked on suspiciously, and asked her to reveal herself.

So she explained she came in such a way as he, that it was inside of her just as it was of him, and that she took this boat and risked these tumbled seas in the manner that he did, and so what was it of name to say that they were not the same.

The fellow though, was not satisfied at this. He shook his head with violence and quickly rose in his defense. 'No! No! Its not the same!' he said and cried at her the devil. Frightened she recoiled, but to her credit still tried again. Now though the tide had changed and he, having heard her just, only walked away in disgust, and would have no part of her after that.

These two travellers fell asleep upon the deck that night. She took her root at the stern and he took his at the bow. They both were wary of the other, her for his defense and him for her devil. But sleep eventually overtook them both.

And when the sun came up over the western crest, this old lubber rubbed his eyes and took his feet to the deck. She, however, did not take hers, and was of no place to see.
- posted by Sigurd1/07/2005 08:38:00 PM