The Voyager's Deathbed
A new adventure awaits
The air is vibrant with sea-salty promise. The cliffside is flowered and lush.
In a saltbox house, the voyager waits, bound to bed like a bird robbed of flight.
With failing breath, he tells his girl of oceans uncharted and islands remote. Only seen by those with wind in their sails and bravery in their hearts.
He tells of battles, monsters, of treasure and love; and how he's off now to find her mother.
"Don't cry, my dear. I've seen all that there is. That I am sure."
"Saint David comes with colors high and a new adventure in store."
About the Creator
Algernon Locke
Amateur writer powered by cheese and unholy spite. I like writing fiction. What kinds? All kinds! Poetry, stories, songs. I'm still finding my place in the literary world. With reader critiques and feedback, I hope to learn and grow.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
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