A Sailor’s FateTelio scanned the midnight horizon then climbed down from the crow’s nest. A soft splash made him squint starboard, just as a mournful song quivered in the night air. A face, pearly grey, emerged above the dark water. Bleak eyes, framed by purple shadows, looked up at him. The siren rose over the surface, tattered blue swathing bony
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Yes, those sirens--they win out every time.
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He dragged himself from the hammock. He was cold, so cold, a chill deep in his bones, and at the bottom of his lungs. He made his way to the deck, it was night, with a heavy sea. Spray lashed the rigging, and the wind howled with the voices of damned things. A gaunt figure spoke from the bridge,
"So, you have joined us, Mr Telio? I am your new captain. My name is Van Der Dekken, but the men call me Dutchman. Step lively, now, to the crow's nest!"
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