EEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk..... The banging of loose ropes drumming the sides of this wooden ship is the only sound carried by the waves and wind. It staggers, heavy and creaking, through what is left of the wild storm.
Using my practiced sea legs I make it from one side of the lonely deck to the other.... where is everyone?
In the cabin I find a woman with long black hair wrapped in purple curled up on a bench, hands tucked under her. Beside her on the floor lies a tan and white dog who appears to be sleeping. Her lashes curl prettily along her high cheek bones but her exotic beauty is tempered by her ice white skin. She will not be waking. I leave them untouched in their permanent slumber.
What happened here? I search the rest of the ship. Gold coins lie scattered below deck, the hull is still sound but there isn't another soul but mine on board. The sky above is lit with the flames of clouds and dusk blended by the reflection of far off rain. The first stars study me on the horizon. I look back without understanding.
There are words in the wind behind me and I turn to see the faded translucent image of the girl and her dog standing behind me, her words scratch at my ears like a distressed kitten at a friendly hand, “What happened?”
The Wind Woman has come for her and she catches the girl up, jerking back her pleading hand before my puzzled solid voice can reply.
My dreams are my favorite part of sleeping. I love feeling rested and relaxed but I really love dreaming. Sometimes my anticipation is a little nerve-racking, especially when I have had a good set of nights in a row.
Using my practiced sea legs I make it from one side of the lonely deck to the other.... where is everyone?
In the cabin I find a woman with long black hair wrapped in purple curled up on a bench, hands tucked under her. Beside her on the floor lies a tan and white dog who appears to be sleeping. Her lashes curl prettily along her high cheek bones but her exotic beauty is tempered by her ice white skin. She will not be waking. I leave them untouched in their permanent slumber.
What happened here? I search the rest of the ship. Gold coins lie scattered below deck, the hull is still sound but there isn't another soul but mine on board. The sky above is lit with the flames of clouds and dusk blended by the reflection of far off rain. The first stars study me on the horizon. I look back without understanding.
There are words in the wind behind me and I turn to see the faded translucent image of the girl and her dog standing behind me, her words scratch at my ears like a distressed kitten at a friendly hand, “What happened?”
The Wind Woman has come for her and she catches the girl up, jerking back her pleading hand before my puzzled solid voice can reply.
My dreams are my favorite part of sleeping. I love feeling rested and relaxed but I really love dreaming. Sometimes my anticipation is a little nerve-racking, especially when I have had a good set of nights in a row.
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