The Ships of Genoa

         Tattered sails broke over the horizon, under which the bow a ship materialized a few moments later. It dotted the horizon as a single specter, intending only to make port.

         It lagged heavily. Humble waters parted for the ship, to which they offered no resistance, but the green ship crept slowly, without concern for time or affair. Its tarnished gold and faded color hinted that it was once a grand and ornate ship, but had yielded to age. Creaking and moaning every few feet, it let out a sigh that rumbled from the heart of its hold. A brief wind lifted its sail and spoke of unfamiliar lands.

         The ship slowed to a halt as it touched port delicately. Men and women who vied for the ship’s goods waited impatiently below. A plank was guided over the side and onto dock. After momentary silence, individuals began to clamber over. Burly men, who carried crates in pairs, unloaded the ship’s hold.

         But the crew that stepped across that October of 1347 brought not only the goods of distant markets, but were emissaries of Death and Despair, bringing with them the plague.