Today’s story has few words, but a lot to say. I hope you enjoy this flash-forward. I penned it last year about this time. Happy Sunday!
They tore down Trump’s wall to build it,” my grandfather scratched his nose, white from a thick layer of zinc. He pointed at the graffiti defacing the side of the vessel, now permanently moored in our backyard.
“Couldn’t someone recently tatt’ed the boat?” I saw familiar lettering, words I’d seen on the arms of the boys at my school. Bright colors, oversized words like “Boss” and “Proud Boys.” We walked in closer through a line of wooden sticks emerging from the sand like a broken set of ribs.
“Why would people ‘ave built a boat? Not like it ever rains.” I touched the beams reverently. It was one of the few times in my life I’d felt real wood.
Grandpa chuckled. “Usta rain everywhere.” He stretched his hands over his heads as he continued. “There were huge mountains of ice, and when they melted, people panicked. Built big boats in case the waters kept rising.”
My grandfather’s fingers were bowed and weathered like the ship’s. Instinctively, he knelt down on one knee. I grabbed his arm to steady him as sands stirred.
His voice crumbling, he whispered, “Tyrant,” and with that, I also knelt. A small gesture, but one we both knew meant dissent.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Magnificent, K. The ending, in dissent, is perfect.
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Oh, thank you kindly, Jeff. 💜
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You’re most welcome, K. Always. 💜
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Scary ideas depicted so tenderly.
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That image of a ship moored in sand. Just seemed so futile and it brought out this story. Thanks for reading and commenting on this one, worms.
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❤
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Powerful ideas in a handful of succinct, carefully chosen words. Clever.
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Thank you, Hobbo. The title definitely captures our current situation this side of the pond.
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👍 Interesting
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The only thing there is the notion of people doing something preventative.
They won’t. Politicians will argue that the boats are too expensive,that the money could be better spent improving the politicians’ palaces intead.
The would never have got round to buildiong boats until after they’d drowned.
Or did I maybe read too much into this? 🤣
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I think it’s the people building boats, tearing down the wall, scrambling like then nuclear bunker crazes of the 60’s. Of course when the waters don’t rise, it’s all for nothing.
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A resonant and haunting story in these troubled times! Beautifully imagined, K 🙂
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Thank you kindly, Tom. I like the idea of telling the stories of moored ships.
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Outstanding, and I love that you chose one of my favorite GD songs, along with your poem, it puts the song in a different perspective! 😉
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Thank you very much, Tiff. Good musical taste another of your many virtues, I see. 💜
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