Plastic Sea (FR) — What's Left, Page 20
By Inkroost · Published
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Transcript
Panel 1 : La nuit. Roka sanglote sans retenue dans la bouée orange, le canard jaune plaqué contre son visage mouillé. Panel 2 : Un ciel étoilé au-dessus d'une eau noire et calme. Roka est une minuscule silhouette dans la bouée, au milieu de tout cela. Roka : « Je ne t'ai jamais dit merci. »
Image description
La nuit, Roka sanglote, le canard plaqué contre son visage ; puis il n'est qu'une minuscule silhouette dans la bouée, sous un ciel étoilé.
About this chapter
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.