Nobody fears the mention of our names, and last we were in port, not even the lowliest of wenches would pay us any mind. We resolved, then and there, to only return once we had become swaggering buccaneers, wealthy enough to demand respect.
But our remaining food was rotting... along with our hopes... as we continued to sail the seas, desperate to encounter another vessel... desperate for the glint of golden treasure against the unforgiving Caribbean sun.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 7:45pm on Nov 10, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
