Double-Sided Letters

A Horizon Unknown: SIDE B

(I listened to this while writing most of the chapter, though I realize the video is very long and literally the same thing on loop. I didn't listen to all of it, don't worry. I'm not crazy. Scratch that. After coming up with THIS chapter, I definitely am. And there's a picture to go along, FYI).

-FLIP OVER FOR SIDE B-

✎ ✐ ✎ ✐ ✎ ✐

A girl named Alice, upon waking, had said, "Oh, I've had such a curious dream!"

Another girl, centuries away, had awoken to voice a slightly different exclamation.

"That's quite the mouth you've got on you," said a voice from afar.

"What?" Catherine said slowly, her bearings all over the place. She stretched in a nonchalant way, hoping to mask her post-nightmare shivering. Through her blurry vision she saw a splotch of blue stationed at what looked like a giant wheel.

She blinked.

An admiral sea captain, dressed in a grand navy coat lined with gold, was at the wheel of a boat that was very much wooden and very much deserted.

She wished she hadn't blinked.

"I assume you're very confused, dear girl," he said without turning, "but I assure you, we're still headed for Lillian soon enough." 

He had a British accent that pleasantly lilted like the rise and fall of tides, a beautiful way of speaking that was almost too good to be true. Catherine blinked again, utterly lost. She thumbed the hem of her dress.

She wasn't wearing a dress.

Catherine sucked in a breath. She was. A long ivory dress with half-sleeves that rippled in the fierce winds. She hurriedly clutched the fabric to her as the wind tugged, looking around wildly.

"Where is everyone?"

The captain turned his head and she saw a smile. "Them? They're all below deck."

"Um, why are they below deck?" Catherine asked.

"Mmm...probably because I have taken over the ship."

She softly uttered her waking curse again.

"I'm not actually the captain, you see," the not-sea-captain explained, eyes back on the sparkling waters,"I'm the chef. They found I had rather amazing powers with a knife."

Catherine's insides felt minced at this statement. She was definitely in trouble, but even more terrifyingly, she felt as if everything made sense, all at once. Maybe she would have believed she were dreaming, if not for the fact that a dream makes perfect sense to the dreamer until their waking. After all, have you ever seen someone with the audacity to question the reality they currently exist in? Catherine hadn't, nor would she ever be them. Instead she focused on staying alive as long as possible with a maniacal fake sea captain on deck and his most likely dead crew mates and passengers below. 

"Are you afraid of me?" the sea captain/chef/insane British man asked plainly.

"No," Catherine replied quickly, hoping to convince herself.

"Don't sell me a dog, sweetie," he said cheerily, "you're dead frightened."

Sell him..a dog? 

What the hell happened!

The only way to really describe Catherine's state of mind would be to say she felt her world was turned upside down and brought to a boil, then promptly chopped into bits. And what a nice stewing of thoughts it was, too. Stirring the wooden spoon of this soup was the crazy man at the wheel, letting the confusion simmer out just right as to settle like thick fog throughout her mind. The sky was soupy, too, reflecting her emotional turmoil. Salty air seasoned the boat and whipped Catherine's hair into a frenzy. She struggled to hold it back, torn between keeping her eyes exposed and avoiding indecent exposure. She settled with holding the dress down.