Yukaton River Part 2

NOTE: This is unedited and the story will change. I haven't posted in a while so I thought I would share this rough draft.

The boat is packed with vintage cases in burnt orange, brown, and the occasional pink. Hard plastic with metal clasps, the luggage takes up far too much room. There is barely room for the couple to sleep. They don't mind, Timothy can sleep anywhere on anything, allowing Pen to sleep in the only comfortable soft spot.

They packed their lives into these cases. Books, clothes, stuffed animals: Pen's penguin and Timothy's tiger. Both their parent's took a strange liking to alliteration, and it featured often in both their lives. They also packed love letters, bottles of perfume, their favorite pop, and Tim's article collection on UFO sightings. Pen also packed complete new outfits thanks to her paranoia of not having the exact right thing for any weather or situation.

Other cases contained survival gear: tents,nets, fishing poles, matches, wood, mini canisters and hiking gear for cooking, rope, fishing line, extra shoe laces, many pairs of socks and underwear, bottles of water and a purification system, handful of towels, soap, nail file and clippers and scissors, two single sleeping bags, a king size wool blanket, and copious amounts of toilet paper.

As the sun rose on the land and everything appeared on fire, the neighboring town folk bustled outside Pen and Tim's tent, which sat among the ruins of Rim. Kids ran in circles singing a tune about fire and death. The echoing shatters of hammer on steel roused them from their tent. Upon sticking their wary heads out they saw a canopy had been lifted then nailed to the ground. A bonfire blazed outside it with meat skewered above, roasting. People sat on the ground beneath the tent, basking in the shade. Women and children played hand games: clapping, slapping, thumping, while men beat drums and danced, hopping from foot to foot. It was a celebration to say goodbye.

As the couple stepped into The Blessed Express an hour later, the party continued full tilt. Few came over to wave them off. Children gathered leaves from the giant river trees and threw the waxy green bits at them. A carpet on the boat.

The moment they untied the boat, it propelled forward. Silence fell and not a single hand waving could be seen from the party. They we're alone along Ash River.

© Ash Huntley