Yet another long year has gone by, but unlike any of the others that came before, this one...this one has been very different. With friends I but never knew a year ago sending me many birthday wishes in post and in email, it does indeed seem that the world has become a smaller place, one much more tightly knit then before. One of communication and commerce. To celebrate last night, Kathryn insisted on dragging me away from my work to go and dine on the deck of Nemo's ship in the Deep.
It was a very pleasant affair, dining on rare delicacies while staring through the glass as eels, saw fish, and rays swam by. The booming and buffeting around the room was far from distracting, but rather comforting and peaceful, knowing that all the turmoil was out there, and not in the restaurant with us. We got the chance to explore the decks and inspect the curious sealife that was kept on board while we waited for our food. And while I never saw the captain I had complete confidence in him.
|A scale model of the submersible: Nautilus.|
When we left the ship we looked out over the edge of the railing and I could have sworn that it was like looking toward the end of the world. The grey sky, the fog and mist and the lapping water all merged together in the distance and seemed to deny the possible existence of anything beyond it. Kathryn held my arm, then, and looking over the waters of oblivion she told me that this is what death must look like. Grey fogs on into nothingness. I shook my head in polite rebuke at her, but said little on the subject.
Death is not a land I wish to know.
Beyond that the shops are now up and the wares, though made, are mostly not for sale - being broken or experimental pieces from my for feckless years...
But enough for now dear readers. I hope the new year of my life ahead treats me with all the surprises I can handle and I wish the very same for you. As they say in the orient: May you live in Interesting Times!
Professor Shevek Moore.