The river runs fast at this point, sometimes too fast for the unwary. I was visiting my brother that day, coming all the way from Anglesea. London, that big city, so excited to be visiting after months of planning and waiting.
The mist of that November afternoon came in early. We walked too far out. I heard the voices, but the voices came through muffled. People shouting. I walked towards the noise. The tide was definitely coming in so I turned back and slipped into water. Black, cold, fearful water. No time to shout. I was surrounded and surrounded, over and under, nothing to hold, no one to call, no where to go, just me and black water. Oh the coldness of the water. I saw the ship arrive and they placed it over my head, half a ship. What’s this? Things have changed around here. The future is a strange place, they are now sailing in half boats.
People living on it. Maybe I can explore this when they get it off my head. The effort of getting free from the clinging cement mud, pulling me, sucking me back to stay put. One last effort and I can reach the boat’s bottom, I want to see what this half ship is about. I can talk to the people to warn them, and to ask them to please get this heavy thing off my head.
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