to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita snorted – wondering if Aurelia’s declaration and goading was going to signal the end of their amusements, one brow arching while she fell into silence and swallowed down more of her drink. It was only when Jack started up the Wellerman shanty that her mouth dropped open – and then curled back into a Cheshire grin. Was she envious that he could carry a tune? Of course not. (Yes.)
But she could recognize the beat Milo set, even if she had no ability to copy it. The youth picked up from where he left off, wailing at the top of her lungs. “One day, when the tonguing’ is done, we’ll take our leave and go.” The rest of the crew filled in, the music swelling, amplified by feet stomping, by hands pounding like drums against wooden barrels. “Before the boat had hit the water, the whale’s tail came up and caught her. All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her, when she dived down low…”
to be the sun
MELITA
