Sea Summons

For M- (not Matthew)  - May you find home soon, or love. Or perhaps these are the same coin.



From beneath his slouched hat Ahab dropped a tear into the sea; nor did all the Pacific contain such wealth as that one wee drop.

If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

He hated fall.  Autumn leaves crisped, browned, and sputtered their way to the ground like tiny fires in red, gold, and umber; summer breezes gained an edge, a chilling blade piercing to the bones, whispers of the coming cold, and the oceans frothed and grayed. He scarcely noticed this, for fall meant not the dance of leaves, not the songs of breeze, not, even, the festivities of thankfulness and harvest, but the call of loneliness, the sea summons.
His  vessel sat at dock, readied for its grand venture over the deeps, a journey that lasted until mid-spring. The bay's gentle waves rocked against the harbor, and his ship gently rolled with each crest and trough. Another six months of life, wasted on the great empty expanse of brine, an emptiness propagated by his crew's industrious silence. A death of vacancy.
It was his last night in port, and he felt wrecked, as though a finality loomed overhead, and knowing its proximity, he could do nothing, brought low by its burden. His crew sweated and strained, checking the rigging and oils, lugging supplies aboard and examining for leaks. They didn't need him now; he could leave them be. And what if... what if he left and never came back? He turned, facing the harbor-town. He took a few steps towards the bar before stopping, realizing he never drank anyway - another reason he made a poor sailor - and turned towards the classical music lounge. At least there, though alcohol was still prevalent, the music would soothe his sorrowed nerves.
"Better be on time tomorrow morn, boss!" his workers called behind him.
"Or we'll drag your sorry corpse back aboard!" they catcalled, hollering and whooping.
"See ya in the morn, Cap'n! Whether ya like it er not!"

He cringed, but kept walking, pushing open the swivel doors into the music lounge. It was different here, a place where he might forget the other world, his world. Tall stools surrounded tables in the room's center, and a single, uninterrupted couch lined the wall around the room's circumference, only stopping near the bar and stage ends of the room.  The room itself was oddly shaped, without any square angels, and the couch against the walls bucked and rolled like waves. It was not a pleasant metaphor.


to be continued...and edited.... and fixed....
--------roiling, spume

**Notes:
- turn away
- catcalls
- definitions and detachment
- distance a la lounge?
- lighting
- smells




(other messing around)
The trees are foreign, though perhaps everything was these days.  His station wagon trundled down the winding hills, and though a town approached - he could always feel a town approaching, now - he saw nothing save the aspens and the pines. His was a nomadic life, as late, wandering from town to town, state to state, in a desperate plea for home. Each town was but a different name for heartbreak, growing about his heart like poison ivy.
Now? Now he just needed a place to weed out his brokenness. The loneliness already gnawed at his guts. As his station wagon hurtled down the hill, he knew this was his last attempt, for even if his heart was strong enough, his transportation was not. He could almost smell it: the town. There was another entrance, of that he was certain. He approached it obliquely, coy and coquettish, and the town loomed heavy upon him. As he turned a corner on the hill, he caught his first glimpse, hundreds of feet below, a new world of chimneys, greenery, vineyards, farmsteads and cottages, clustered as they neared the village center.
And then the trees regrouped, hedging out his view once more so he wondered whether it might have been but a phantom whimsy. It was beautiful, a glen of green and cozy cottages. He'd even imagined a forest distant, and a great river running through it.