The Compostual Existentialist

Wordpress flavour with added crunchy bits

Wet

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I watched the last remaining survivors clinging to the life raft. They had been adrift for some time allowing the cold north easterly wind carry them through the mist. The waters were uncannily still and they observed little wavelets lapping at the shore of two distant islands.

As the mist thinned, the raft started to take on water. The crumpled body of one of the survivors slipped motionless into the water. His colleagues, weak from their predicament, remained motionless and watched as he floated away from the sanctury of the craft. How much longer would they have to endure this? Nobody could tell. It could be days it could be weeks. Surely help would arrive soon.

An underwater gas surge erupted underneath the craft. The disturbance of the water was enough to unbalance the craft as if they had passed perhaps Scylla or Charybdis. Two more survivors fell into the murky waters beneath. One struggled for a bit and tried to make it back to the craft but to no avail. The currents were too strong and soon he too floated away from the craft. The two remaining craft bound survivors looked on helpless the smaller of the two started to panic and ran round on what dry bits remained of the craft. I can only imagine the screams and terror they must be experiencing.

Eventually the craft beached near one of the islands but still the craft took on water. It looked as though they were doomed to drown and not even Captain Nemo could save them now. Then through the mist from my vantage point I heard the call of the sirens Thelxinoe, Molpe, Aglaophonos, Pisinoe, Parthenope, Ligeia, Leucosia, Raidne, or Teles. Or perhaps some ocean bound harpie or seawitch

“You’ve been in that bath for hours” the witch called

I tried not to listen to its enchanting cry. But suddenly it appeared before me and, with a forceful voice carrying with it the power to snap a man’s resolve:

“Look at you. You look like a bloody prune and why the fuck have you got spiders on your sponge?! You dirty bastard!”

Like Neptune I rose from my resting place. Pulled the plug and soon the sea had gone.

I then wrapped myself in a nice fluffy towel and went downstairs to watch TV

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Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists.

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