Plastic Sea (PT) — What's Left, Page 5
By Inkroost · Published
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Transcript
Painel 1: O esconderijo de Roka sob caixotes amarelos empilhados à beira-mar. Roka se senta, pingando água. Biber gira o saco plástico vazio, Kabak ri com a barriga toda, Bamya abraça seu pato. Biber: 'Bom dia, dorminhoco.' Kabak: 'Você estava roncando de novo.' Painel 2: Roka espreme o rabo de cavalo para tirar a água. Roka: 'Eu não estava dormindo.' 'Estava planejando.' Painel 3: Biber se inclina para a frente, com uma sobrancelha erguida. Biber: 'Planejando o quê?' Roka sorri, mostrando um dente lascado: 'O café da manhã.'
Image description
Roka encharcado se senta em seu esconderijo de caixotes enquanto Biber, Kabak e Bamya riem da pegadinha que fizeram.
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.