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I pull open the cover, a trap door to the deck. “Weigh the anchor!” and with a splash the adventure begins. ”Trim your sails!” and the curtain ***** behind me. The bow of Old Salt splits the waves and I wipe the spray from my glasses. There’s mutiny aboard the ship. With cutlasses drawn I hear them charge, the “pok-pok” of a peg leg is my dad at the door. “It’s twelve gone”, he says and I see them fall to the deck. In the heat of the action there’s no time to count the loss! There’s a shout from the door, “They’ve scuttled the ship!” My feet get cold as the hull fills up. The water is rising it dowsers my candle. The crew is sprawled awkwardly on the still, red-dyed deck, as the leather bound novel falls from my bed…
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
The leather bound novel
I pull open the cover, a trap door to the deck. “Weigh the anchor!” and with a splash the adventure begins. ”Trim your sails!” and the curtain ***** behind me. The bow of Old Salt splits the waves and I wipe the spray from my glasses. There’s mutiny aboard the ship. With cutlasses drawn I hear them charge, the “pok-pok” of a peg leg is my dad at the door. “It’s twelve gone”, he says and I see them fall to the deck. In the heat of the action there’s no time to count the loss! There’s a shout from the door, “They’ve scuttled the ship!” My feet get cold as the hull fills up. The water is rising it dowsers my candle. The crew is sprawled awkwardly on the still, red-dyed deck, as the leather bound novel falls from my bed…
Lots of imagery, think double meaning
searle
Written by
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
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