Second Voyage [Written]
October 4, I Am Not Quite Sure The Year
Very Far From Home
I am now officially sixteen. (Thank you, Grandfather, for giving me my birthday. I think of you fondly and wonder how my Home for Little Wanderers is faring.) I had hoped to celebrate in the arms of my dear Jaimy, or at least with my beloved crew members of the Belle, but, alas, luck has once again been unkind to me. For the past twenty-four days I have been in a place called “Luceti”, which has no ships, no ocean, and none of my friends.
I have made some new friends, though - the blind girl Selphie, whom I have taken an apartment upstairs from, and the honorable Captain Sparrow, commander of the merchant ship The Black Pearl. I have also met a female police officer (I wonder if her captain knows she is a woman?) who kindly explained to me many of the wonders of this place - for example, the strange book I am now writing in. These books have the power to somehow capture and send one’s voice, so that other people with other books can hear what you say, even though they are not near you.
Another strange thing about this place: everyone has wings. Small ones, but wings nonetheless. Mine were quite sore in the days following my arrival, but they are better now. I shall soon commence learning to fly with them. It will keep me busy.
I yearn for my pennywhistle and my dear Lady Lenore, as with them in my company I could provide much-needed entertainment for the people of this village. We are all prisoners here, and could use some cheering up.
There is a bar here, the “Good Spirits”, and I intend to visit it again soon. My songs will be the poorer for the lack of instruments, but I can still tell jokes and stories, and maybe dance a bit for the men. If they seem a well-behaved lot.
I have almost forgotten to mention that there is no money in Luceti. I will perform not to line my own pockets, but purely for the delight of the audience.
Well, all right, and to satisfy my own love of showing off. There is no reason why I should not have some enjoyment as well.
I think I shall close my book now and take a walk about the village. The weather has turned cold today, but it does not bother me.
Very Far From Home
I am now officially sixteen. (Thank you, Grandfather, for giving me my birthday. I think of you fondly and wonder how my Home for Little Wanderers is faring.) I had hoped to celebrate in the arms of my dear Jaimy, or at least with my beloved crew members of the Belle, but, alas, luck has once again been unkind to me. For the past twenty-four days I have been in a place called “Luceti”, which has no ships, no ocean, and none of my friends.
I have made some new friends, though - the blind girl Selphie, whom I have taken an apartment upstairs from, and the honorable Captain Sparrow, commander of the merchant ship The Black Pearl. I have also met a female police officer (I wonder if her captain knows she is a woman?) who kindly explained to me many of the wonders of this place - for example, the strange book I am now writing in. These books have the power to somehow capture and send one’s voice, so that other people with other books can hear what you say, even though they are not near you.
Another strange thing about this place: everyone has wings. Small ones, but wings nonetheless. Mine were quite sore in the days following my arrival, but they are better now. I shall soon commence learning to fly with them. It will keep me busy.
I yearn for my pennywhistle and my dear Lady Lenore, as with them in my company I could provide much-needed entertainment for the people of this village. We are all prisoners here, and could use some cheering up.
There is a bar here, the “Good Spirits”, and I intend to visit it again soon. My songs will be the poorer for the lack of instruments, but I can still tell jokes and stories, and maybe dance a bit for the men. If they seem a well-behaved lot.
I have almost forgotten to mention that there is no money in Luceti. I will perform not to line my own pockets, but purely for the delight of the audience.
Well, all right, and to satisfy my own love of showing off. There is no reason why I should not have some enjoyment as well.
I think I shall close my book now and take a walk about the village. The weather has turned cold today, but it does not bother me.