Josiah Moore
Stories (1/0)
Of Shackles Scorned
The sun drifted just above the entrance of the harbour, sending streams of light dancing across the calm waters below, dotted with the cargo ships arriving from distant Karne and the pleasure-craft that became so popular in the Fall season. Across this medley of deep blues and oranges the reflections of the sky-craft could be seen darting in all directions, as the swarm of corporate vessels and drones hurtled to landing parks across the city, or out of the boundaries destined for a distant hub. All of this made the harbour appear even more lively than it already would, the flat surface of the sea given an ever-shifting life of its own. In the distance, the short bursts of the sirens of a docking freighter could be heard. Akira was pulled out of her trance, peering out over the waters, by Boo’s gentle chastisements.
By Josiah Moore3 years ago in Fiction