[Day 2] The River
You come around to the sound of gently sloshing water lapping at the sides of a boat-? The shore? It's hard to place, but the rhythmic splash, clap is telling. Aside from that, the air is dreadfully, heavily silent, your own breaths barely audible, almost stifled. When you open your eyes, it's dark-at first (sorry, Itachi). If you let your vision adjust, you'll soon slowly be able to make out the shapes going on around you.
Dozens, hundreds of narrow boats, gliding forward through inky black waters, pointed at the prow, and manned by thin figures holding long oars and looking straight ahead. It's hard to make out the faces of those in boats opposite yours: hazy, obscure suggestions of companionship obscured by a fog that . . . isn't. You can see the procession of boats hundreds of feet in either direction, but seeing the faces of passengers in the other boats-? Impossible.
The sky up above is dark and starless, but not completely black; instead, it seems cloudy, and a dark grayish-red; dully lit by the reflection of lights from what may or may not be a city, far up ahead. That must be where you're headed. Otherwise, you get the feeling you might just drift on the water endlessly.
As for the water itself? . . . didn't you ever read any books? Watch any movies? Don't look. More importantly, don't touch.
Dozens, hundreds of narrow boats, gliding forward through inky black waters, pointed at the prow, and manned by thin figures holding long oars and looking straight ahead. It's hard to make out the faces of those in boats opposite yours: hazy, obscure suggestions of companionship obscured by a fog that . . . isn't. You can see the procession of boats hundreds of feet in either direction, but seeing the faces of passengers in the other boats-? Impossible.
The sky up above is dark and starless, but not completely black; instead, it seems cloudy, and a dark grayish-red; dully lit by the reflection of lights from what may or may not be a city, far up ahead. That must be where you're headed. Otherwise, you get the feeling you might just drift on the water endlessly.
As for the water itself? . . . didn't you ever read any books? Watch any movies? Don't look. More importantly, don't touch.