tunglfar

The moon last night was bright and enormous, dwarfing the town like a shining, white cruise ship in the harbor, towering over the tollhouse, the supreme court, the national theater, the office of the prime minister in what used to be the jail, except that it had docked over the pond on the other side of town. If it was not full, it was only missing a nail-paring from the upper left, a mere splinter of a Naglfar lacking. Maybe it had come into port for just such minor repairs. It was too great a tonnage to bob on any waves (and the black water still and smooth anyway, star-speckled but calm). We stood on the quayside and gaped like children at a many-masted tall ship, would have waved little silver pennants if we'd had them.