It's Still Life

The Steamboat — The First Descent

Brigid’s Diary, Episode 06: April 1834

The steamboat called “Le Marsouin” shouldered the Rhône with a relentless thump-thump-thump, its side wheels beating water into obedience while the sound ran the banks like a bruise.

The engine breathed deep and hoarse beneath us, heat and hiss rattling the wooden hull until my skull learned the rhythm as a persistent ache.

The river smelled of itself, silt and rot and fish gone soft, and my wonder failed me as my stomach turned traitor.

Felreil held me at the waist while I leaned over the rail and gave back stewed meat, hard bread, and wine, and said only, “Let it go,” as if instruction could steady my body.

Around us the crew shouted in French and patois, children cried, and the whistle relayed its warning round every bend like a threat the river had already heard.

If this is what motion costs when fire teaches water to hurry, then I have seen the fringe of madness and know it passes from machine to bone and wears a human face.

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Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “relay”.  Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is authentically my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.