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Weekly Contest #363
Rain streamed from my hair as I hung my head over the ship's railing. Salt clung to my cracked lips. The storm had churned my stomach all night, and I had gotten barely any rest. What little of the ship's biscuit I managed to swallow now floated in the sea below. I was so weak. I didn’t want to move from this spot. Perhaps I could stay here, suspended over the sea, for the remainder of the voyage. My first instinct was to call for William, but he would tell me others have endured far worse. That most ladies were faring way better than I. ...
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