By Vera Mottino text and drawing (c) 2013
In the engine room the noise was obsessive.It pounded and clanked and whirred into his brain. It sounded like a message sent to him.
He had avoided thinking about the past lately. Tumultuous, tempestuous, it had all been, at times stormy like an angry sea. He was no longer young; still strong and fit, but his past had made him tired. The noise in the engine room was as overwhelming as his past. And hot, like the tropics he knew too well.
His turn ended. Now he could clean-up and go on deck. Maybe to avoid thinking any more, or perhaps to think seriously about what he should do. How to change his life.
He loved the old vessel that plied a portion of the Mediterranean. He loved the sea. His life would always need to be on the sea. But how…
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