The Future... Is On a Boat!

Apologies for my absence when I explicitly said that I would be back soon; although I suppose that five days IS much shorter than two months. I would be lying if I said that I was busy. I am still as of yet unemployed. And no, I'm not bragging. A steady job would be wonderful right about now.

But as my talents are limited t0 telling stories, writing essays, washing dishes and beating things with sticks, my job opportunities are sadly limited.

But I am doing my best to keep occupied and productive. Right now I am writing an as-of-yet-to-be-fully-developed novel with my friend Pete, who writes random bits of silliness on his respective blog here.

We've both been working on this story in our when-we-get-around-to-it time. Which reminds me, my mother actually DOES have a round Tuit.

Getting focused again, here is a bit of the story we are writing, and I am now sharing with you. Oh, and it really does have to do with a boat.

"A boat?"

"Yes... a boat," said Zeb.

"OK, when you said 'boat,' I assumed that you meant a nice boat. A proper ship with wings and jets and... you know... SPACE worthy. Not the whole..." Quint waved his hands in the air gesturing to the entire boat. Zeb gave bemused laugh.

"Yes, yes," he chortled patranizingly. "Sail, keel, deck, ropes, the whole package deal. Missing a proper poop deck sadly." The joke was entirely lost on Quint who continued to stare at the boat as if he had never seen such a thing before. In fact, this was not far from the truth. Quint had not seen a sea ship since he had been back on earth, and that had been part of a collection some rich fellow had. The thing had hardly been sea worthy. Quint knew that he certainly wouldn't have set sail in the thing. What frightened him the most was that the object that Zeb now preposed that they travel in was in even WORSE condition than the one he had seen in a collector's museum. This was not good.

"Care to explain?"

"Explain what?" Zeb countered, as if he went on pleasure cruises in the thing on a regular basis. "Look, I had to get this on the sly. I'm in no position to acquire an entire space craft in the time we had. And even if I HAD had the time, I don't have those kinds of assets. This will do fine. You just need to know where the leeches are and avoid the squalls."

"But... but..." Quint could no longer think in anything other than conjunctions and negations.