The Sea Of Japan
(jean-françois joubert)
The moon healed the earth with its soft light, men prepared their ship, moving cases, handling of the end, avoiding that the bridge in open sea becomes a trap. Four men in shone were going to confront treasures of Ocean, sharks, whales and dolphins. The salient muscles, narrow and dry it seems, his men left work, without particular state of soul for the kind of the stalked animal. Of course, they knew that the dinosaurs had left the earth, missing, retiring, but the arrogant animals who watered the planet of the beam of their shade had yielded for other motives than for surpluses of quotas of peach, then why to lose? The motor growled, harpoons drowsed, hawsers were thrown to water, at night and its roof of stars lit the four men in their meeting with destiny. The sea was nice this morning. A small heave raised in turn the poop and the prow of the boat, the radar did not show obstacle, the fishers drew the road towards their place of peach, danger seemed far. The weather forecast was particular this morning, particularly good. The stem which breaks spaces was not more than of the detail for the sad fellows harden by the labour of their daily, death was their bottom of trade, blood gushed on the bridge, tripes, the smell of this pulpit, the eyes which close up, all this din to feed the palaces of some fine experts, men who had decided that a shoe without wing tips should not exist.
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