The old haggard captain eyed his crew as the scurried about the deck, the waves crashing over the deck, occasionally sweeping a sailor off of his feet. The waves seemed chaotic and disorganized to the untrained sailors but the captain saw it all differently, each wave delivering a glimpse of the endless layers of the sea. Some carried pain, some joy, others indifference. Captured memories, ideas, thoughts all struggling to be released.
This storm was not going to be easy and some of the crew may not make it out alive but the ship would make it. And the captain had navigated these waters before - knowing what to expect. He eyed his youngest mate who seemed gripped with fear and unknowing which way to turn next. The young sailor's knuckles were white as he gripped the mop handle, unable to explain why he found such comfort in this object. A wave sprang up behind him, readying to knock him to the deck. The captain cried out, his hair whipping as he almost too nimbly sailed across the deck, securing the young mate to the center mast. Catching the young sailor's eye, the captain barked "Hold tightly, mate. This be one nasty storm but it will pass and there be calm seas and bright skies on the other side."
nice
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