Prompt: The Vessel

The vessel glinted in the sunlight, but no one could have distinguished it from the glittering summer sea. It had gotten lost, inevitably, due to the unaccounted storm that swept through the sea, a vehicle screeching to a U-turn, blown into its path by the fickle wind. The vessel had travelled far and the journey was by no means easy.

The destination the vessel had tried to steer itself towards was clearly visible. Marked by red and white parasols that crowd such that there was more shade than sun on the sand, the beach was littered with a great number of holiday-goers. High concentration promises higher chance of being discovered.

Even in the waters near shore, there were people splashing about and clinging to floats, bobbing rows of solar panel. The vessel moved resolutely towards them, aware that it was already late in carrying its message. To the right of the beach, there were tents and shophouses shimmering in the heat. Music boomed through its sea-facing loudspeakers, trying to make itself heard and rise from the din of conversations. The vessel felt its walls shiver with the beat and wished that there was a way that it could tell the loudspeakers that it was heard loud and clear, hence it should turn it down a little.

A sudden wave that hurled itself from the strange lungs of the sea spun the vessel off course. It feebly tried to right itself, but the trajectory for the populated beach had been altered towards the left, where only caves and scrawny trees rose from the ground. No matter the struggle, there seemed to be a repulsion from the loud music and sweating crowd that the vessel could not resist.

The caves yawned closer, the coconut from the trees were visible. With a sudden awareness that the vessel did not have in the midst of its panic, it realised that it was rapidly approaching a human in the water. Thankfully. The chances of being delivered was not yet zero.

With renewed effort, the vessel urged itself towards the bobbing head. A soft contact with him would suffice to alert him, then its duty as a message carrier would have been accomplished.

As the vessel maneuvered itself closer to the human, it realized the human head was gradually going under the lapping waves. There were hardly any ripples coming from him, no indication that he was resisting the sea. The vessel pressed on even more fervently, but before it managed to reach the man, the man had sunk further into the sea, slowly moving towards his bed. It was not especially devastating, the vessel still had to go on towards the shore.

Quietly, the vessel docked as it slid heavily onto the sand. The wet sand sunk under it and the imprints were periodically washed away by an incoming wave. It waited, peered to the left and right of this stretch of beach, but saw no one. There was only a pair of shoes neatly arranged side by side, toes facing the sea. It could only wait, heavily immobilized by its own weight upon the sinking shore.

A giggling couple had wandered to this part of the beach, intentionally seeking a quieter environment away from the booming beach. The girl was about to dance in front of the guy when she tripped upon something, stubbing her toe painfully.

With a string of curses, she scowled down at the object, only to find a clear glass bottle with a parchment corked inside. The guy moved beside the girl, gaze trained inquiringly upon the bottle.

“Should we open it?”

“Walao this stupid bottle! Whatever.”

“Let’s open it.”

The guy bent to pick the bottle up and flicked away the sand. With a heave, he popped open the cork and instinctively moved it away from his face as the residue sand flew everywhere. He hastily removed the parchment and read carefully.

“What does it say?”

“Wait.”

“Is this a prank? Nobody sends messages in bottles now.”

“It is.”

“It’s a prank? Tell me! Hey just let me read!”

The guy brushed aside the girl with a frown and read aloud, “This is a note dispatched by the Royal Trench Corps regarding the occupation of Sentosa. In two months, or sixty-one days from the dispatch of this notice, The Reaper, our best military vessel, will be dispatched to occupy said beach, whether or not forcibly is a matter of your cooperation. Please inform local authorities of our intentions and vacate affected areas. On behalf of citizens of the ocean, the Royal Trench Corps embark on our collective mission to reclaim our land. We sincerely hope Singapore would cooperate with us.”

“It sounds like a prank to me.” the girl chuckled.

“I think we should, still try to raise it to the police, I mean.” the guy was already leading the way back to the crowded stretch of beach, and the girl was left with no choice but to frustratedly follow.

The vessel gleaming in the horizon could have been mistaken for the summer sea, but soon, when it drew closer, perhaps people would start to see the barnacle-clad darkness rise from the sea, formidably towering, frightfully ugly and tentacled…