Excalibur - Excalibur - 7

Musings on an Atlantic crossing, 7

The Night Stalk

The skipper hunts
(Thump)
Noises
Creaks and clatters bangs and thwacks
Headtorch and pants
(Thump)
Stalking
Thuds and rattles crashes thumps
His prey waits
(-)
Quiet
Until his back is turned to thump again
He spies the book
(Thump)
Pounces
Wedges it beneath a seat
The tin, the boot
(Thump)
Silenced
Saucepans smothered, teatowels stuffed round mugs
He cocks his ear
(-)
Nothing
Victorious he tiptoes back to bed

(Thump)

(Thump)