Plastic Sea (FR) — What's Left, Sayfa 34
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What's Left bölümünün 34. sayfası giriş yapmış okurlar içindir. Giriş yapmak seni doğrudan buraya geri getirir — hesabın yoksa da ücretsiz açabilirsin.
Metin dökümü
Case 1 : Dans la cale faiblement éclairée, Roka tient son avant-bras droit chromé contre sa poitrine et regarde l’œil au dos de sa main. Roka : « ... Je suis humain. » Case 2 : Très gros plan : l’œil se ferme à moitié, comme dans un soupir. Tohum : « ... Oh. » « C’est décevant. » Case 3 : Roka crie vers l’œil ; celui-ci se rouvre vivement. Roka : « DÉCEVANT ?! » Tohum : « Ne t’en fais pas. Ce n’est pas personnel. »
Görsel açıklaması
Roka tient son avant-bras droit chromé contre sa poitrine et fixe l’œil au dos de sa main ; celui-ci soupire qu’il est humain et dit que ce n’est pas personnel.
Bu bölüm hakkında
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.