Land Ahoy

“’Tis mighty queer weather Captain, you can scarce' see waves from up here, in such dense fog.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice laced with fear, “but time presses us so, and these charts are true enough.”

“Joyous Fortuna, bless this xebec’s motley crew I beg thee!”

“Hush now Zandin, ‘less others overhear your superstitious foolery.” Timbers creaked aloud. An unseen gull squawked ominously.

“Perhaps, Sir, we should kedge her to port?”

“Hold that tongue, sailor.”

Vast sails billowed above them. A violent thud ripped through the hull as oak splintered before jagged rock.

Screams echoed beneath falling masts.

Watery silence.




For the 100 words no repeat contest using every letter of the alphabet.