|The Port and the Windowsill (standard:fantasy, 1265 words)|
|Author: Craven||Added: Sep 30 2003||Views/Reads: 1845/1153||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|This was a descriptive story that I did for my School work. There's a twist at the end.|
The wooden ship pulled into port. Dozens of workers scrambled towards the vessel, grabbing the ropes that were flung over the side. Within minutes the ship was tied up to the dock. I watched as the gangplank was brought for the sailors to disembark from their long voyage. The sailors scurried across the decking, quickly and efficiently pulling down the sails and dropping the anchor. The slow rocking of the ship was something the sailors had become accustomed to during their adventure. I noticed their eagerness to step onto dry land after months at sea. Their captain stood at the foredeck already looking back out to sea. It wouldn't be long until his ship would set sail once again and not return for quite a while. He wore a long, dark blue overcoat which rippled in the wind, almost like the very liquid that his vessel was floating on. His black hair was being played with by the wind. The salt air had given every strand of hair a thickness that you wouldn't normally find on a landlubber. His bushy and well-groomed beard surrounded his mysterious face. Without it he would be a completely different person just another average man in a field of ordinary people. Above his shrouded mouth and below his hawk like nose was where his waxed moustache clung, swept across his sunken cheeks, which were ruddy from the harsh winds and rain gifted by the sea mistress herself. I marvelled at the ever-increasing crowd that had gathered around the gangplank. They chattered to each other like small birds in the trees as they waited for the sailors to walk off the vessel. The pitch of their voices would quickly rise and lower like a piece of music composed for the concert hall. I found humour in the way that some of the women would jump about in anticipation. Hoping that their husbands or sons would soon step onto steady land. Looking onto the ship I could take in the fine craftsmanship that had gone into the vessel. Every plank so precisely made to complement the others. Each piece as important as the next to form a beautiful creation. The stern of the ship housed the dining hall and the captain's quarters. Candlelight shone through the glass windows. The light moved side to side almost as if it was waving towards the gathering on the dock. The figurehead was of a mermaid who was leaning out over the waves. Her golden hair swept back as if a strong wind was permanently pushing against her. The features she had were expressionless almost like she had no soul to speak of. Her eyes and lips where closed as if to protect them from the cruel sea air. Her thin slender arms where thrown behind her. She seemed to be preparing herself to dive into the clear, blue water below her. The sailors had completed their last jobs and had lined up on deck to receive their pay. A few of them stood to attention obviously knowing what the captain liked. The rest of the sailors stood watching their captain growing impatient from waiting. When he finally turned away from the horizon the captain brought his piercing eyes over the whole dock taking in every little detail of the town. I could have sworn that he looked at were I stood. His eyes burrowing into my very mind reading the thoughts inside of me. He began to patiently stride across the deck towards his crew making every footstep feel like an eternity tempting the most impatient of the sailors to come begging for his pay. Eyes watched him as he strutted towards the sailors. After what felt like hours he stepped in front of the first man. The First mate appeared behind the captain and took out a list from his right pocket. Clearing his throat the First mate began to read out the sailors name and how much he was to be paid. He then handed the captain a pouch of money to be given to the man. The pouch was embarrassingly small the red material looked as if the crewmember was being handed an empty pouch as if saying the pouch was his pay. Had this man displeased the captain in anyway I would never know. But as the payments where handed out it became obvious that the small payment was intended for the whole crew. After the crew had been paid in full the captain briskly walked to the foredeck and addressed the sailors. His voice was one of authority, low with a roughness that would make anyone frightened of him. To even refuse his orders would be mutiny. This captain made sure that every member of his crew where loyal to him and him alone. The leader of the pack. Click here to read the rest of this story (44 more lines)
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