Hello . . . this is Joe. Welcome to A Daily Drabble. Please add 100 words of prose or poetry as a comment on any date you want and in any order you want. Please reply on the drabbles you like. I'll moderate the comments at night, and they'll appear the next day. This is for everyone!
A lone boat sits on the gold-dappled surface like a duck. Other boats surround it, their bows peering in indifference. A man stands near the stern of the lone boat and watches the band of orange burning over the other masts. He wonders which boats will hide what he needs, such as perishables, drinking water, and medicine. He wonders which boats will hide the infected.
ReplyDeleteA pitiful wail rises and dies at the end of the dock, as if in answer. Now he knows where they hide. Where they wait.
Manuel hefts his sledgehammer and prepares to dock.
This image bores me. I need it translated into a Nicki Minaj song. “Boss ass bitch”—boss ass boat. Have you ever thought how your standard marina resembles a dick-pic? A cliché, you say? I love your jaded tongue, and above us—sky casts its fifty shades of grey: he and he and they walk around without their shirts despite the absence of six-packs. Just past the jetty, sea-lions pack on pounds. One of them has a bullet-scar: drunk-boy bullshit not commercial fishing, its hardened ken. North of here, bullet-scarred orcas bite: rust colored blood, like seams in raw milk.
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