The Whale

The morning of the seventh day dawned fair and fresh, and once more the solitary night-man at the barn was relieved by crowds of the daylight look-outs, who dotted every post and almost every bench.

"D'ye see him?" cried I; but the whale was not yet in sight.

It appeared soon enough:

 at 9:30am we had our first lost, Nico lost his arm to a chisel-shark and slowly drifted away to the land of the tea drinkers.

Soon after David was called by the mermaids and lost his mind to their song. Keiran just kept at it, pairing nothingness into nothingness to add nothingness to the posts.

I lost the use of my legs and arms, my mind was trembling, we built a sauna:

People left, we had a day of rest and animations and today we found this and managed to put the tenons half way in.

We are traveling to santiago tonight, have a weeks of rest, come back in march to put things up. We are defeated by the white timber whale and need to heal our wounds, learn our lessons, let time pass over and have backs again that can work with this mass of wood and joints. 

Stay tuned for the second chapter of this saga.