“Voice was lost in a sea of technology and alcohol, smelling strongly of cheap whiskey and typewriter ink. It dropped like a stone into the oil, lighting fires in the waves and blackening the lungs of the forefathers that drifted nearby like great sea lions, tusks bared, tooth and nail ready to defend the precedent. They barked. And snarled. And within corpulent bodies, there was a stifled glow, like a sunrise seen from beneath a stone, barely noticeable from where we watched in a tub miles and kilometers away off in the distance.

“The candle maker wept, a sorry sight we all agreed. His tears tore apart the plaster sinews of our impromptu sea-faring vessel, and as the politicians and gulls overhead were burst into flames, we, our tub included, took on oil and disappeared forever, awash in the sea of technology and alcohol.