A small fishing boat is my life. A small, worn fishing boat that has emerald moons on its mast and a bare sun wandering for a helmsman. A fishing boat without a wheel.
“Where are we going, Captain?” the helmsman asks me and winks at me.
“Wherever the waves go!” I officially say.
And the emerald moons that are on the mast pop like pomegranates on the blanket.
