Categories > Original > Fantasy > Tradewinds 03 - "Shipwrecked"
V
…The smell of the sea is the smell of memory for those who’ve slept by its shores; for Justin, as one who has rested his eyes while sailing upon it, it is also the smell of dreams, as memories lost to his waking life flow through him in gently rolling waves.
Again he is lost in a haze that is more shadow than substance as he feels the world slowly rocking back and forth under his feet. Though he spent much of his most recent days on terra firma, in his early years he would spend much of his time between lands and so when he was older he would have no trouble finding his sea legs. In fact, he has to come to like the sensation, he finds it relaxing; for the rest of his days, he will always fall asleep more easily on a seagoing vessel than anywhere else.
As Justin pads down the shadowy hall, passing a long line of closed doors, he again wonders why such a big ship is always so empty. It is always dark below deck, with only occasional small lamps on the walls to light the way. Sometimes he swears this ship is haunted, for everything onboard feels so old. As if it belongs to another era long past, long before his time.
It feels haunted to him, but not in a creepy way. For a child, this ship, like many things, simply is. He accepts feeling lost most of the time as a simple fact of life, and spends much of his time at sea wandering the decks, though he seldom encounters a soul. He has come to know every inch of the ship; at this point in his life, it is the one thing he really knows.
Sometimes there are more people around, but most of the time he finds himself alone wherever he happens to be.
He sees no one on his way to the main deck. Even above deck it’s dim and murky, the sky full of heavy clouds. As usual, the decks are empty as he takes his ambling tour. There is a haunting beauty and allure in this place that would later make him wonder why so few people wished to come out here.
He is about to go back below to see if there is anything else to do, when he sees a lone figure on one of the upper cabin decks.
A little girl, about his age, wearing a dress that, on anyone else, anywhere else, would have looked silly and… somehow old-fashioned. In a way that (like so many other things in this place) he just can’t quite put his finger on.
These are strong undercurrents in his thoughts, but on the surface, he just finds himself feeling a little less alone at having found another human being. Time is a strange thing on the Ocean, and it often seems to slip through his fingers like the sands of the beach, to the point that sometimes he doesn’t know how long he’s been out here. Many people come and go at the blur of ports that swirl in the back of his mind, but she is a regular.
He knows not from whence she came, no more than he knows of his own origin. There is a certain “lost” feeling about her that seems to mirror his own. Her eyes are the grey of the sea, and they make her look wiser than her years.
Justin is certain they are windows to her own little world, both within, and without.
He isn’t really sure why he finds her so fascinating. The only thing he can come up with is that some part of his mind equates her with this ship. Somehow she just belongs here.
He wanders over to talk to her, to find out where she’s from, for he has seen her out and about before, but never really had a chance to talk to her, this he thinks as he steps into the mist swirling along the deck…
…The smell of the sea is the smell of memory for those who’ve slept by its shores; for Justin, as one who has rested his eyes while sailing upon it, it is also the smell of dreams, as memories lost to his waking life flow through him in gently rolling waves.
Again he is lost in a haze that is more shadow than substance as he feels the world slowly rocking back and forth under his feet. Though he spent much of his most recent days on terra firma, in his early years he would spend much of his time between lands and so when he was older he would have no trouble finding his sea legs. In fact, he has to come to like the sensation, he finds it relaxing; for the rest of his days, he will always fall asleep more easily on a seagoing vessel than anywhere else.
As Justin pads down the shadowy hall, passing a long line of closed doors, he again wonders why such a big ship is always so empty. It is always dark below deck, with only occasional small lamps on the walls to light the way. Sometimes he swears this ship is haunted, for everything onboard feels so old. As if it belongs to another era long past, long before his time.
It feels haunted to him, but not in a creepy way. For a child, this ship, like many things, simply is. He accepts feeling lost most of the time as a simple fact of life, and spends much of his time at sea wandering the decks, though he seldom encounters a soul. He has come to know every inch of the ship; at this point in his life, it is the one thing he really knows.
Sometimes there are more people around, but most of the time he finds himself alone wherever he happens to be.
He sees no one on his way to the main deck. Even above deck it’s dim and murky, the sky full of heavy clouds. As usual, the decks are empty as he takes his ambling tour. There is a haunting beauty and allure in this place that would later make him wonder why so few people wished to come out here.
He is about to go back below to see if there is anything else to do, when he sees a lone figure on one of the upper cabin decks.
A little girl, about his age, wearing a dress that, on anyone else, anywhere else, would have looked silly and… somehow old-fashioned. In a way that (like so many other things in this place) he just can’t quite put his finger on.
These are strong undercurrents in his thoughts, but on the surface, he just finds himself feeling a little less alone at having found another human being. Time is a strange thing on the Ocean, and it often seems to slip through his fingers like the sands of the beach, to the point that sometimes he doesn’t know how long he’s been out here. Many people come and go at the blur of ports that swirl in the back of his mind, but she is a regular.
He knows not from whence she came, no more than he knows of his own origin. There is a certain “lost” feeling about her that seems to mirror his own. Her eyes are the grey of the sea, and they make her look wiser than her years.
Justin is certain they are windows to her own little world, both within, and without.
He isn’t really sure why he finds her so fascinating. The only thing he can come up with is that some part of his mind equates her with this ship. Somehow she just belongs here.
He wanders over to talk to her, to find out where she’s from, for he has seen her out and about before, but never really had a chance to talk to her, this he thinks as he steps into the mist swirling along the deck…
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