Writing 101, Day 2: We’re all drawn to certain places. If you had the power to get somewhere — anywhere — where would you go right now? For your twist, focus on building a setting description.
The metal springs squeaked in recoil as the female human squeezed the latches to open the barred door of my travel carrier. Out I leap onto the L-shaped built-in couch flanking the starboard side of the galley, the dense upholstery sporting a fine tweed checker of black and tan. It had been awhile since fresh air flowed freely in the cabin and the unmistakable smell of stale engine oil, hot rubber and plastic reminded me where I was. As my humans busied themselves opening doors and windows and organizing their stuff, I set about to take inventory. My litter box was under one of the two shiny black vinyl arm chairs on the port side between the helm doorway and kitchen counter. Although head room was somewhat limited, it was out of the way and easy to access. My oval bed, with it’s red plaid exterior walls and fluffy soft lamb-like wool interior, sat atop the helm dash surrounded by 360 degrees of large metal framed rectagular window views encased in the orange hue of all mahogany wood walls. Under the couch seat overhang, on the slightly worn light-brown low pile carpet, was my empty lime green food and water dish. I looked up expectantly with tail high and alternating front paw curls trying to catch their eye in my oh so friendly gesture that means I’m hungry. Well it didn’t work this time, they are too busy and my food is still buried within one of the many bulging tote bags.
With shooing hands they gesture me to get out of the way and with a flick of my tail, I hop over the protective ledge of the open doorway. The pads of my feet thudded gently along the cream colored side deck as I trotted my eleven pound self up to the bow. The weathered wooden anchor board reaching out over the calm reflective water below, is one of my favourite perches from where I survey my surroundings and, with nose up and eyes closed, I smell the air. I am on our motor vessel named Minstrel, and outside without restriction. Normally at home I can only sit and watch anything that moves outside from the boxed window sill, and when I do get outside, the extent of my freedom is limited to a 6 foot length of leash held by my humans. I amble off the anchor board and continue around to the other side of the boat back to the stern. The human’s little boat is suspended in mid air by heavy canvas straps attached to 2 large mechanical arms in their upright position, secured in place with side ties to prevent it from swinging while underway. Leaning my head over the gunnel edge, I see the slatted swim grid below but have no desire to get that close to the water. Coming around full circle I hop up onto the mid sundeck, then a couple of ladder steps more to the upper helm sundeck. The view from here is the best but a little too open and I recall the flapping sound the flags make as the wind blows them around. Some ancestral instinct causes me to want to run and hide from some unknown predatory bird which is quite confusing considering how much I can’t help but yearn to catch the small ones that tease me daily as they flutter around at will in the network of window level tree branches just out of reach.
Thud thud, I smell something good and jump back down to the main deck to return to the cabin. The humans have put everything away and set out my food, patch of oat grass, and toys before they begin to untie and push off the dock. Everything is where it should be and I’m ready for our adventures afloat. Each time we go out I’m hoping to return to a small treeless islet that I went to as a kitten. That one time we rowed the little boat a short distance over the water away from the anchored big boat, until it’s bottom grounded onto a flat section of the rocky shoreline. Out and off I bounded with no leash to hold me back, high tailing it through the tall browned grass with eager abandon. The islet was totally surrounded by water so I couldn’t go far or get lost. So many nooks and crannies to explore and new smells to absorb. My humans brought some chairs and made themselves comfortable at the crest of the islet where they could both keep an eye on me and enjoy an awesome view of the pristine bay and sunset. Maybe this time we’re going there again but right now I’m on the boat and am happy to go where ever it takes me. This is my happy place. =^,,^=