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The Port and the Windowsill (standard:fantasy, 1265 words)
Author: CravenAdded: Sep 30 2003Views/Reads: 1766/1099Story 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. 



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