Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
- Joined
- Mar 6, 2009
- Location
- Beaverton, OR
The brig drifted somberly in the currents of the ocean. The foremast was splintered, and much of the main sail was tattered. Two months she’d been at sea, and her provisions had run bare. Even with fishing for the last month to supplement their rapidly dwindling supplies the crew had begun to starve. No wind, no heading, and perhaps enough water to last a few more days the crew had long since given up hope.
Below decks Johnathan listened to the creak of the ship’s hull and picked at the strings on his guitar. It was a struggle trying to get the pitch right. He had a sharp ear, but between the grousing of the crew, the sound of the waves, and his own rumbling belly, it had proven difficult. It didn’t help that his mind was having trouble focusing. The joys of starvation he supposed.
He sighed and set the instrument down. Taking his bandanna he tied the bright red cloth loose around his matted auburn hair. Weak as he may have felt, he still had his duties to perform, and that included taking his turn at the riggings if by some miracle they caught some wind. With his guitar in hand once more, he made his way above deck and to the bow.
Below decks Johnathan listened to the creak of the ship’s hull and picked at the strings on his guitar. It was a struggle trying to get the pitch right. He had a sharp ear, but between the grousing of the crew, the sound of the waves, and his own rumbling belly, it had proven difficult. It didn’t help that his mind was having trouble focusing. The joys of starvation he supposed.
He sighed and set the instrument down. Taking his bandanna he tied the bright red cloth loose around his matted auburn hair. Weak as he may have felt, he still had his duties to perform, and that included taking his turn at the riggings if by some miracle they caught some wind. With his guitar in hand once more, he made his way above deck and to the bow.