"I can't be expected to navigate in this fog," Henry twisted the knobs on his softly ticking machine. A ticking squeak that sounded like a mouse that swallowed a clock, was supposed to be the "diviner", or so the advertisement said. Better than a compass, and uses wind-up power. Always man the helm, and never get lost again. Sylvia smirked and looked down in her tea. Her face felt dewy, the fog was thick like silk curtains, and her watch had stopped long ago. "Derek and I are thinking of buying, finally." Henry didn't want to talk about Derek. Derek only came up when things weren't going right. She looked out at the grey, "If we ever get home, that is." Henry thought of the portrait of her and Derek in their salon. His face had a gathered look, it seemed to build towards the scooping nose in the center. His face seemed frugal, as if it let nothing through for free, the way he made his money. A specter of his gathered visage seemed to hover before Henry on the fog's grey canvas, and he steered blindly towards it. The ticking squeak of the machine whinnied and warped, and Henry cast a look at Sylvia. She dumped her tea over the side of the boat and went below deck. Henry started to sing to himself, quiet, furtive, low.
RatTail are on an east coast tour right now. Nova Scotians, New Brunswickers, Quebec City-ites, check them out. They have a lovely 4-song EP that they're bringing with them on tour. The EP is streaming at their bandcamp site, and can be purchased there also. Enjoy.
(photo from Papua New Guinea, taken by Timothy Allen)
and it will begin playing. All songs are also available to download: just right-click the link and choose 'Save as...'
