The Thread of Flame

(1920)

Without opening my eyes I guessed that it must be between five and six in the morning.

I was snuggled into something narrow. On
moving my knee abruptly it came into contact
with an upright board. At the same time the end
of my bed rose upward, so that my feet were
higher than my head. Then the other end rose,
and my head was higher than my feet. A slow,
gentle roll threw my knee once more against the
board, though another slow, gentle roll swung me
back to my former position. Far away there was
a rhythmic throbbing, like the beating of a pulse.
I knew I was on shipboard, and for the moment
it was all I knew.--Chapter 1

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