Wednesday 1 February 2012

Leviathan

Ephraim had made it to court and his companion was talking. He was not going to get away with it this time. Like any respectable criminal, he had been out in the wee small hours but the 'get away' cart had let him down. He had not done his homework. It was kind of the judge to say that he had until recently been a "comparatively respectable " character. Of course, it was all a matter of judgement.
It was time to pack his holiday clothes, clean underwear, best shoes, a little reading material and a good hat.
With the clink of his chains measuring his steps, Ephraim was marched back to the hulks. The Leviathon was not the place to be. Smelly docks, seawater sludge and hard work were part of the treatment. Everyday, prisoners were rowed (I would think they had to do this bit themselves) into the docks to work, then out to the ship for a gentle rocking lullaby at night. I wonder whether he had regrets. Did he think this was the beginning of an adventure?
No more green fields of England or meandering country lanes.

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