Sea birds swoop overhead, shadows in the ochre sky. Waves pull back, retreating from the shore as if to shame the figure slumping over the sand. Here, a man sits; an empty bottle lies nearby, traces of rum line his unshaven jaw. His navy coat is strewn across the land, lost to the depths of the earths. A red bandana sleeps on his head buried deep into his scarlet chest. Here, a man sits, swallowed by guilt, branded by sin. Here, a captain mourns the loss of his ship, himself to blame. The honourable, he is no more.
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Authori am just an ordinary teenage girl. my name and whereabouts are unimportant. this is my story. all written work is original unless credited. Archives
June 2014
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