Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright-
And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night"
The teacher's voice droned on and on, the tempo of the words falling flat, on ear's tuned to tiny speakers blasting rap. But still the words flowed on, with the patience of a sloth. The student, whose desk was marked by a flimsy card proclaiming her "Dawn", was staring bleakly at the world outside. "I wish this loser class was over" she thought, and then she groaned as a dark voice in the background rumbled, "GRANTED"
"The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry,
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky
There were no birds flying over head,
There were no birds to fly"
A deep voice rumbled over the words of poetry, picking up every accent perfectly.
In a dark sea of silver fish, a girl lay still on the table top, eyes in tiny cressets, to all the worlds she appeared asleep, but her posture was a lie. For should she move at all, even her tiny toes, the rumble would stop, and shudder excuses out with lie's.
He read to her, the same way he brought her apples, or chastened her when she was barefoot on the bridge. It was a thanks, a prayer and an apology all wrapped together like crepes. Fake sleep for her, fake hate for him. Simon would be angry, but he was asleep with his sunshine and she could do what ever she chose when the captain called it night.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-
Of cabbages--and kings-
And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings"
"Moonbrain! What the gorram hell are you doin'!"
Gorram it! It was all ways like this, he finally settles down for a spell, and the she goes and mucks it up. He'd been readin' too which was sumthin' he didn't go 'bout doin' much, on account of never botherin' with educated sissy stuff, but gorram! When he felt the need to read he was gonna read! And if it happened to be out loud and around Crazy-girl, then so be it! But that was no reason for her to take off like sumthin' was after her! Yellin' like that was bound to wake the boat, even if it were poetry. And now here she went again from the cargo bay, her voice floatin' up soundin' almost sane, 'cept that she was talkin' to her self...
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
"Wha?" ow... what was it about transporting people that dicttated they fall hard on ther ass?
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize.
But you should know, were on a boat
There are no wicked bad guys."
Wha?" There was a girl staring at her, waaaaay too close for comfort...
"Crazy! What the gorram hell you doin"
"Jayne! What the gorram hell you yellin' about?"
Oh man... This was not good. She'd wished! What the hell was she thinking! She had wished! And now she was being surrounded by crazy people, and cowboys! Cowboys with tight pants and guns aimed at her head! Buffy was gonna kill her...