Steampship SquireThe sun shimmered at the stern of the vessel; much more a ominous notion than a scenic greeting. As it were, the 'Squire's Seven' proved no luxury cruise. I'd assumed it be so, as I was informed. But fate, once again, chuckled and spat as it tossed me to and fro in the jaws of Hell. The Squire was a slave ship, no less. An iron monstrosity plaguing the untouched virgin waters of the Southern Atlantic. A steamship forged and fed by Lucifer himself: fueled by the coal derived from the burnt corpses of all that he had vanquished.
Yet, it caressed the ocean waves like a dove. Massaged the cool trade passages with no more than a swift glance from her sisters traveling besides her. The Squire bore the mark of the Magistrate, such fair rulers of the lands they were. Her companion ships waved and cheered, and more often than not tossed food and other trinkets aboard to its crew. The Devils crew.
I suppose I was indeed lucky to have been allowed to board such a vessel, although I would have pre
TransitationHer lips, alone, made mine quiver. Her pale white skin glowed in the incandescent aura of the murky subway platform, permeating beauty into everything around her. Her gaze pranced lightly around her, mesmerized almost at the surrounding poverty. But, what was I?
I pretended not to notice her. Surely those bright eyes of hers dare not wander over to the darkest corner of the platform. An unscathed iris, avoiding my unusual posture. My unusual height. Jeans two sizes too big, grubby graphic tee. Nothing else screamed 'odd' like I did.
Yet, her gaze strayed over. Dark brown marbles, they were. Shimmered above any priceless gem our kind had encountered. The crown jewel of beauty shone upon me... But I looked the other way, as if my hood could conceal my presence. I sniffed and glanced down at my watch, as if I had something very important to do.
She brushed her silky black hair behind her neck and stared across the tracks yet again. Her face was emotionless, but her comple