I read the sea charts my father brought home; snuck them out from his bedroom so he thought he'd lost them. When I was grown and away from there, I filled in what lay beneath the paper. I found someone I had not heard my father mention; someone with a ship and a thirst like mine.

The sea was calm on our first venture. I remember three great spires emerging from the deep gloom; a natural trident forty stories tall. I took forty photos and brought home a paycheck. The next month I returned, with a better camera.

I grew weathered, grey and worn. I inherited the ship that carried me on that first dive. Before he died, my father heard my name mentioned by a colleague; admiration in passing. He left me a voicemail message.

On my last voyage, I went to see the trident once more. The sea was rough. I smiled to see that something grieved my passing.

So, if I write something here, how does it show up? I'll learn by doing, I suppose.

Also, I see that it's possible to de-select the editor, so that hitting backspace makes my browser go back in its page history. Why do browsers still do this? Is this concrete evidence that agents of Satan influence our world?