Chapter 5
180 Words
2
“To the left, Willem!”
“Aye, Captain.”
Nothing stirred, nothing was happening, not a soul to be seen, yet voices rang out, and the ship sailed on.
“Raise the jib!”
The helm squeaked, silver clouds glittered in the compass glass.
“Hey, Dirk, remember that barmaid in Hamburg?”
“Aha… Slacken the guy ropes.”
But there were no sails, either. Bare masts, just some rags on the rigging, parched fish and petrified bread on the mess-hall table, a bottle empty but for the bluish scale of vapourised wine…
“Captain’s counting the haul, I reckon.”
“The bosun, too. They threw the merchant overboard, thought they’d made a hush job of it, but we saw for ourselves!”
It was the seagulls all gaggling at once, each to its own tune, yet each understood. It was a cabotage voyage.
“To the right, damn it! There’s reefs ahead!”
But there were no reefs, no sandbanks, either, although the dark clouds on the horizon were indeed dry land. Nothing hindered the ship, and the voices echoed among themselves. The voices were quick, the people, dead, but with living voices. The dead generally maintain an eloquent silence, but should they speak…
- Writer
