It looked like a river, and in fact it was a river for all intents and purposes. That is, to God it could be a trickle, a gutter stream, or a sewer rapid; and assuredly he could merely step across it with no problem. But Rat Shipley would have to find that certain kind of bamboo, which Haus always says works great for rafts. He would have to whittle away at these rods with a skinning knife - the only remotely sharp object on him - and then he would have to lash these poles together with hair or shoelaces or maybe these long reeds that seem to be growing on the banks here.
And hoping for the best, Rat Shipley must then shove off, for he can not go back. Forward is the only direction despite not being able to see the other side. Forward across this river…or what appears to be a river.
For all he knows it could be an ocean.
An entry taken from writing.com, a book titled Rat Shipley, written by Piggle.
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