Tuesday, 8 May 2012

On the Rocks by Sam Smith

This shall be my last journal entry.

All members of my crew have either died of starvation or murdered each other in a fit of madness.

Their captain is all that is left.

Never have I sailed a ship for myself. The masts have been left high. The wind decides where we shall go.

An end on the rocks seems fitting for such a poor captain.

We were dead before the ship even sank.

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