I’ve been trying to think of something to write about. Perhaps something about my job. Or the dream I had last night. Maybe discuss some wonder of the world or ask a question that challenges my very existance.

But in all that time I was trying to think of something to write, this is all I could come up with.

A Tale by Carly Bishop

Creaking doors and broken boards, leading me across the shipdeck floor. Staring over the crooked edge, seeing nothing but ocean and a sandy deathbed. Wrists behind me, bound, I’m gagged. By the edge of his sword, I fear I’m had.

Found, was I, rummaging through the Captian’s jewels and rubies too. Who was I but a passing mate? Such as that who steals and lies first rate. Blending in, shorter than most, soft-spoken, shy, and the cook’s best host. Blind to those who did not care and those who did would not dare. For I was good and hired staff and those who questioned made others laugh.

But then, by chance, I was caught “with an arm-load of diamonds!” cried a mate, distraught. They hung me from my heels and stared as every precious thing fell and laid bare. All my goods fell from my pockets and the pirates’ eyes bulged from their sockets. But low and behold, what they could not believe, what they saw, nor could they conceive. For once the sash fell from my head, I revealed lovely locks of crimson red.

Stroding up, the Captain grinned. He stroked my cheek and tapped my chin. “Well, who are you to give this crew such a whirl?”

“Aye, me, Captain. I am a girl.”

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