“Captain—dad, forgot I’m not supposed to call you that. What the fuck did we hit?” His daughter asked, peering through the glass, eyes of wonder, no fear laced in her wild brown eyes.
“What did I tell you about cursing?” He asks, instead.
“To do it quietly?” She replies, face still smushed against the clear window, “Dad, what if we hit a rock? Remember what happened to the titanic?”
“Ah, no! Queenie, where are you going? Stop it!” Lucia huffed then, being yanked forward by her growing dog whose leash she wasn’t the best at holding. “Queenie, no! We can’t go over there!”
The white dog with dirt stained fur stopped at the gates, peering at the slight gap that would provide an entrance. Lucia pauses beside him, hands on her knees and sighs.