He walked up the gangplank with the ease of a man who’d done it three times a day. Truth was, this happened to be his first time boarding a ship. As he pushed aside his shoulder-length brown hair, he gazed with wonder at the sheer magnitude. Everything about this ship made you feel small, insecure. He toured the ship at a strolling pace taking it all in when a horn sounded. All around rose the shouts of men issuing commands and making ready the ship to sail.

The sails were furled and with a mighty groan she set sail from the harbour. The man rode the bow and never looked back.

The air was rank and bitter this morning and he would have choked had it not been for the wind. It was a wind that swept away the reeking smell of rotting fish and all sorts of other things decayed. He drank deeply of it and let the cold stir something in his soul. Contemplating the glory of the morning sun’s arrival, he sat there and knew he was alive.

  

Be Loved,
The Jack of Hearts
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