...until the sea gives up her cargo
Jan. 10th, 2013 02:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceIt is, um. More than ten months since I saw my stuff. Except that little that I brought, or bought this side.
What I shipped, what I didn't abandon*? Is promised here at ten tomorrow morning.
Tomorrow, of course, is like shipping: it never actually comes. Still'n'all, I am sweetly naive, and I choose to believe there are ferries at the bottom of the garden. Quinqueremes of Nineveh, most likely, not dirty little coal-cats out of Tyneside.
By ten tomorrow, I shall have assembled a little crew of the willing - I shall tempt them in with promises of lunch and booze and such - and we will see what transpires. What manifests. What is.
*I have noooo idea what I shipped and what I left behind**. It's all too long ago, too far away. Everything that comes will be like a gift from me, from my past: belated birthday wishes.
**Nor, of course, what has or has not survived the journey. I am entirely convinced that all the books will be sodden with seawater, and the knives rancid with rust.
What I shipped, what I didn't abandon*? Is promised here at ten tomorrow morning.
Tomorrow, of course, is like shipping: it never actually comes. Still'n'all, I am sweetly naive, and I choose to believe there are ferries at the bottom of the garden. Quinqueremes of Nineveh, most likely, not dirty little coal-cats out of Tyneside.
By ten tomorrow, I shall have assembled a little crew of the willing - I shall tempt them in with promises of lunch and booze and such - and we will see what transpires. What manifests. What is.
*I have noooo idea what I shipped and what I left behind**. It's all too long ago, too far away. Everything that comes will be like a gift from me, from my past: belated birthday wishes.
**Nor, of course, what has or has not survived the journey. I am entirely convinced that all the books will be sodden with seawater, and the knives rancid with rust.