Sunday, May 25, 2008


Rain’s coming, they say.  I don’t believe it.  None of us do.  The Admiral gave up hope long ago.  He’s on suicide watch.  Claims a ghost keeps appearing to him on the bow of the ship.  Keeps saying it’s the Captain who leapt from the starboard side hundreds of miles back. 

The crew looks to me for advice.  “What more can we do,” I ask them.  “We keep sailing.”  I don’t know what else to say. 

Mutiny’s not far off.  I can taste it in the prevailing winds.  It’s coming, along with the rain and the ghosts.



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