Plastic Sea (FR) — What's Left, Página 18
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Transcripción
Case 1 : Après-midi brûlant. Une mer déserte et scintillante à perte de vue. Roka, minuscule dans sa bouée circulaire orange, crie de toutes ses forces. Roka : 'BIBER ! KABAK !' Case 2 : Il rame d’une main, le canard jaune de Bamya dans l’autre, la voix rauque. Roka : 'Bamya... !' 'Y a quelqu’un !' Case 3 : Gros plan : Roka frappe l’eau, le visage bouleversé. Roka : 'Réponds-moi...'
Descripción de la imagen
Seul dans sa bouée orange, sur une mer déserte en plein après-midi, Roka appelle ses amis, rame en tenant le canard jaune et frappe l’eau tandis que sa voix se brise.
Acerca de este capítulo
In the dark at the bottom of the sea, something is counting. On Candyreef, a candy-coloured island of floating trash, Roka wakes to a water bag in the face from his street crew, lifts breakfast from the old woman who would have fed him anyway, and tells the kid who follows him that he doesn't owe anybody. Then the gulls lift all at once, and a Maw eats half the island. A day and a night alone at sea later, the Garden Ship fishes him out and orders him to walk its treadwheels for fish heads. Roka is nobody's slave, so he goes looking for something to steal instead, and breaks into a barnacled case dredged from the seabed. The silver dust inside climbs into his arm and says hello. It is polite. It is curious. It wants every human dead. And it has just started counting again.