(no subject)
Bush didn't put much stock in the romantic, as a rule. He certainly didn't think much of the flowery things said about it. But something in the air changed when Archie Kennedy was around. Perhaps it was just Archie himself, his good cheer has infectious as it had ever been, long before the damned island complicated matters. Perhaps it was something more, something he had dismissed when Archie had disappeared, and determined to keep away even with his return.
There were days when he could ignore it, and days when he wished Kennedy would just damned well go again and be done with it.
And then there were days when he just went sailing.
It was the perfect day for it, just enough breeze to keep the sails filed, but not enough to disturb the sea overmuch. It wasn't a day to be wasted, and when Bush mentioned that he was going to take the Prospero II out to stretch her metaphorical legs, Archie had insisted on tagging along. William hadn't had the heart to say no.
But now that the boat was on the water, he was glad Archie had come along. He adjusted the sails slightly, letting her follow the shore of the island, the simple, familiar task already calming him as he had hoped it would.
There were days when he could ignore it, and days when he wished Kennedy would just damned well go again and be done with it.
And then there were days when he just went sailing.
It was the perfect day for it, just enough breeze to keep the sails filed, but not enough to disturb the sea overmuch. It wasn't a day to be wasted, and when Bush mentioned that he was going to take the Prospero II out to stretch her metaphorical legs, Archie had insisted on tagging along. William hadn't had the heart to say no.
But now that the boat was on the water, he was glad Archie had come along. He adjusted the sails slightly, letting her follow the shore of the island, the simple, familiar task already calming him as he had hoped it would.