Monday, August 29, 2005

Rock-a-bye baby

Plumes of sandy mud, rise and fall like pale brown subaqueous clouds. The sands are shivering beneath a smooth surfaced and silent sea, as the fort gently rocks on its shifting foundation. This scour alarmed the construction engineers, yet it always seemed to correct itself and the list has never been more than five degrees in any direction. I feel as though I am drifting away on a raft with the tide, as I am lulled into sleep on a hot afternoon.