General

The barge was a cherry red upon those sunlit waters.

General

The barge was a confident celebration of colours, the kind of red that invited summer blooms and London buses to play in my imagination. It had a splendid sash of gold that wrapped around the bow and beneath that was the blue of every perfect sky.

General

The barge sat upon the water as if it were so proud of its inertia.

General

The barge had every intention of obeying Newton's laws, especially the one about remaining still unless a force compelled it to move.