Sea, Amour. || Prince Caspian

One: What Home Really Feels Like.

     "The question is," said Edmund, "whether it doesn't make things worse, looking at a Narnian ship when you can't get there."

      "Even looking is better than nothing," said Lucy. "And she is such a very Narnian ship." 

     "Still playing your old game?" said Eustace Clarence, who had been listening outside the door and now came grinning into the room. 

     I just stood up and walked towards Edmund as I feel that Edmund could attack him if he moved something wrong.

     Last year, when he had been staying with the Pevensies and Dwyner, he had managed to hear them all talking of Narnia and he loved teasing them about it. 

     He thought of course that they were making it all up; and as he was far too stupid to make anything up himself, he did not approve of that. 

     "You're not wanted here," said Edmund curtly. 

     "I'm trying to think of a limerick," said Eustace. 

     "Something like this:

     "Some kids who played games about Narnia Got gradually balmier and balmier - "

      "Well, Narnia and balmier don't rhyme, to begin with," said Lucy. 

     "It's an assonance," said Eustace. 

     "Don't ask him what an assy-thingummy is," said Edmund. 

     "He's only longing to be asked. Say nothing and perhaps he'll go away." Most boys, on meeting a reception like this, would either have cleared out or flared up. 

     Eustace did neither. He just hung about grinning, and presently began talking again.

      "Do you like that picture?" he asked." For Heaven's sake don't let him get started about Art and all that," said Edmund hurriedly, but Lucy, who was very truthful, had already said 

     "Yes, I do. I like it very much." 

     "It's a rotten picture," said Eustace. 

     "You won't see it if you step outside," said Edmund. 

     "Why do you like it?" said Eustace to Lucy. 

     "Well, for one thing," said Lucy,  

     "I like it because the ship looks as if it was really moving. And the water looks as if it was really wet. And the waves look as if they were really going up and down." What Lucy said, which made me looked at the painting and literally saw that the waves were moving.

     The things in the picture were moving. It didn't look at all like a cinema either; the colours were too real and clean and out-of-door for that. Down went the prow of the ship into the wave and up went a great shock of spray. 

     And then up went the wave behind the ship, and her stern and her deck became visible for the first time, and then disappeared as the next wave came to meet her and her bows went up again. 

     At the same moment an exercise book which had been lying beside Edmund on the bed flapped, rose and sailed through the air to the wall behind him, and Lucy felt all her hair whipping round her face as it does on a windy day. 

     I felt like she was being sucked into a tornado. And this was a windy day; but the wind was blowing out of the picture towards them. 

     And suddenly with the wind came the noises - the swishing of waves and the slap of water against the ship's sides and the creaking and the over-all high, steady roar of air and water.