simplyscribbling

Thursday, January 11, 2007

NEITHER RAIN NOR SNOW NOR GLO M OF NI T CAN STAY THESE SCRIB ERS ABO T THEIR DUTY

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The 9000 Year Prologue-

Sometimes an anchor drops,
all the way to the dark,
cold calmness of the
abyssal plain, and distrubs
the stillness of centuries
by throwing up a cloud
of silt. One nearly hit
Anghammarad, where he
sat watching the ships
drift by, far overhead.
He remembered it, because
it was the only really
interesting thing to happen
in the last nine thousand
years.

---

them. But the theory is easy to understand. It runs: the sea is, after all, in many respects, only a wetter form of air. And it is known that air is heavier the lower you go and lighter the higher you fly. As a storm-tossed ship founders