Happy Tuesday everyone. Yesterday felt like a game of catch up after the Holiday weekend, but then again it always does. Even when it is just a three day weekend it always feels like the first day back my to do list has morphed into a giant time eating monster. Today should be a bit more calm. I hope. But I suppose I won’t know until the day reaches it’s end will I? So let’s get it started and see where we end up. Are you ready for the morning prompt? Good then let’s get to it.
I like this. Not sure where it is going but i suspect this ship is going to have a bit of an emergency in transit and our lovely main character is going t find himself somewhere unexpected. Just a hunch.
Tuesday, November 29th: The sail billowed in the wind.
The sail billowed in the wind. For a time he stood, placing himself well out of the way of the ship’s crew. He didn’t want to hinder their efforts but at the same time he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He was a passenger who paid full passage and was not expected to do more than pitch in should an emergency arise. His main duty, as the captain saw it, was to stay out of the way.
James smiled. He was fairly certain Captain Smythe would have preferred he spend the entire voyage pretending to be a sack of grain or a barrel of a salted fish, or whatever it was they had stuffed into the cargo hold. He hadn’t really paid too much attention. There were few ships sailing in the direction he wanted and he decided that details were irrelevant. He made certain neither the captain nor the crew were known for piracy or being hunted by anyone official.
Reasonably assured he wouldn’t be killed and dumped overboard after they left sight of the docks or arrested for taking part in a smuggling operation, James booked passage and tried to remain inconspicuous. The first few days were easy.
He had no desire to be seen by those in port and he settled himself in his small cabin and slept until they were out of sight of land. He awoke when one of the crew men was sent up from the galley to bring him his portion of the ship’s fare and then drifted back to sleep.
In the past six months he could count on one hand the number of nights where he managed more than an hour or two of sleep. Freed from the responsibilities he inflicted on it, his body seemed intent on making up for all it lost.
It was only after those three days that his body seemed to be replenished enough that it would allow him to remain awake. Then of course he realized how small, how confining his small quarters were. He felt the staleness of the air and the walls seeming to close in on him.
He had never feared tight spaces but after the open plains of the northern reaches even the lowland cities seemed confining and overly filled with people and animals. Once certain he could find a place in the air where he wouldn’t be a detriment to the crew, James fell in the routine of waking and going on deck. At first captain and his crew watched him. James didn’t take it personally. Once they realized he wasn’t going to be trouble, they began ignoring him.
Now out of sight of land the view was limited. The air felt different than it had elsewhere. The sun shifted strangely on the water, flashing lights at him as it undulated and foamed from the ships passage. Behind the ship scavengers danced in their wake eager for any scraps they might leave behind. It was interesting in its own way. As the days slipped past, James found the tension he was carrying, had been carrying for longer than he could recall, eased. No one was calling his name. No one was expecting the impossible. No one wanted more from him than he was willing or able to give.
He knew it was just a reprieve. When land was sighted again his reprieve would be over. The respite done. Here there was only the expectation that he stay out of the way. It was an expectation he could manage. When they landed he had no doubt that the impossible requests would return. It didn’t matter what his accomplishments were, there were always more demands. His service should have been complete years ago, but somehow no one ever signed the papers for his release. He was simple too useful. The impossible was beyond him, but the improbable was his specialty.
Ten til Midnight 