As promised in the 16 Week Writing Challenge, I’ll be putting up samples of work I did from the preceding week.
From my memoir in progress, Down Ladder: A Submariner’s Tale.
Behind Anav was perhaps half a ruler’s length of space before lockers and equipment filled out to the bulkhead. There was no room for another soul to pass behind him, but somehow people kept regularly doing it. It’s as if these people could deflate and reflate themselves like balloon animals, contorting themselves into in all manner of giraffes and dogs or whatever the unseen hands shaped them to be. I would have to learn this skill to get by. But it’s not so much a skill as it is not caring about rubbing your junk up against another man’s ass or crotch. Knees and ‘bows crashing, breathe on breath mixing, belt buckles and flys catching—humans up close and far too personal. Get used to that, and I knew I could do this. But, it would take some doing some, yielding of my higher mannerisms. There was never anything sexual or weird about it, though we might crack a joke about it, and some took it too far. Closeness was a simple fact of life now. Our world of Submarine was tight and close, and just enough to live in. That’s all.