Do You Still Like Us?

The walk back to the ship is long, dark, slow, but it is not gruesome. The beasties gears slowly wind tighter into themselves, filling the thickening silence with greasy squeeks and smoky, clingy scents. The walk back to ship is one of tears, grief, acceptance, but it is not shameful. The beastie leads the way, newer with each step, truer and still unsure of the way forward. The walk back to the ship ends, begins, a new start, but it is not the true end. The beastie tentatively steps onto the deck of the ship, as the moment holds fast and the worried crew stops and stares. ... ‘we return’ ‘we sail’ “Yes Captain!” ... “...And the beastie?” ‘sails with us’ “Yes Captain!”