Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Ice Pirates?

I've been musing about whether I should write a short story. Today I thought about how fun it would be to write a story set in the near future, in the globally-warmed waters north of Alaska and Canada, where ice has melted enough that channels now exist. It's a rough place, of course, filled with oil ships and supply freighters and pirates! So anyway, here's something that slid out of my head. What do you think? Should I keep going, or start something else? And please - be honest! If this sounds terribly boring - say so!

Here goes - and this is the very beginning:

“You flaming idiot!” Greeger roared as the oilship came into view. One piggy fist pounded the board between the glass windshields. “They’re going to see us in time!”
Kalican sneered at the hairy giant and cranked the wheel toward the starboard icepack. “Nein, mi capitan,” she condescended through gritted teeth. “Stare and see.”
Steel timbers screeched as the cutter tore thru the frozen skin glazing the salty, northern sea. She bucked once, then nosed in next to the glacier. Spears of ice slid off the upturned face, high above, and pelted the decks. Would have made holes, too, and sent the Pretty Marie to dance with Davy Jones if not for the steel reinforcing the wood.
“Bitch is gonna sink my ship,” Greeger moaned, not quite quietly enough.
“Nigh, nigh.” Kalican crooned. “I took an oiler just three days past from this very spot. Ah - hold fast.” 
With that last, the Pretty Marie’s bow surged as she slid up a recently calfed iceberg. Sideways she slid, and all on board followed before she righted herself. 




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