Entry to this week’s 3LineTales. Photo courtesy of Grant McCurdy
Broken camera by the sea. Shattered and forgotten. The waves hunger.
But I saw you there. Corner of my eye. A glint of light on overcast day.
And you saw me. Whom the sea threw back. O’misty lens lifeline.
“I see a light!!” exclaimed the first mate atop the lookout post. The wrong turn at Bermuda had proved costly for the ship had been set in fog for the last several months; neither land nor sea could be seen during the day and the stars turned faulty during the night. Voyager’s crew, now roused alive by the news, turned to face the ship’s bow in near disbelief. A faint glow emerged near the horizon against the backdrop of night. One light became two, two became four, four doubled to eight, and so on until the whole expanse lit up in white. A sudden wind then filled the sails, jolting the vessel forwards that nearly capsized the crew.
“Lower the mast and drop the anchor!” howled the captain who first regained his senses just seconds too late. The Voyager began to accelerate at an unnatural rate, first cutting through the waves before skipping over the waver’s surface and eventually flying. The distant lights turned night into day only to retreat and welcome back the night at rates like a flickering candle against the wind before dying. And indeed, the candle did go out for when the crew finally came to, they met with a swath of lights without fire, suns without warmth against a blackened sea. Foreign voices emanating from vessels without sails reverberated all around them at intervals. They repeated two phases: “This is the coast guard. Identify yourselves”.
Under the sea sat a long forgotten statue of Socrates, poised to contemplate the depths of the universe for the rest of eternity. A thousand years later, the statue was discovered and raised from the ocean’s floor. When the sailors cleared away the centuries of choral and algae, the philosopher came to and yelled. Where’s Plato? I have a word or two for him!
A stowaway pack of mice aboard a merchant galleon enjoys a sumptuous meal of grains and seeds amidst its transpacific voyage. Unbeknownst to them, the vessel will hit a violent maelstrom that shipwrecks the cruise; the sailors perish in the sea but the mice will survive. Upon leaving the destruction, the pack found themselves on a deserted island without natural predators. The ship’s delicious cargo littered the coast, the makings of Utopia… Almost a year after its inception, the kingdom of mice swelled to critical mass. With most of the cargo grains gone and the island vegetation almost consumed, cannibalism became a real possibility. If mice could pray, they prayed for deliverance of what they were about to do. Fate would smile on them for on the next day, the same maelstrom returned and shipwrecked another merchant galleon, this time of the exotic-animal trade.
Aboard a life-raft and adrift at sea, a young man gazes into the night’s sky. A city-borne, he sees for the first time the vastness of the cosmos, fields of stars too innumerable to count, a tapestry spanning the ages. In the darkest of places, stars shine brightest; may their light guide the lost for we all lose our way from time to time. Realizing this, the young man would eventually find land and his place among the stars.