“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.” - Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

Lately, friends, I have suffered from a damp, drizzly November of the soul. I haven’t been having a good time. You know what’s a great cure for a bad time? Revisiting things you love.

One thing I love is my favourite book. I bet you can guess.

You will be rationed 1111 words. Use them to write me a story. Your prompt shall be a line from Moby-Dick, or, The Whale. If you would like me to choose a line from the book for you, you will get an extra 333 words, giving you a total of 1444 to work with. But be aware - consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, treacherously hidden. Trawling for extra words may net you a hellrule.