William Brand

He wanders down the beach with his boots carried in one hand and a blue glass bottle in the other. He sings snatches of sea shanties and walks with no apparent care for progress or destination. He wanders further and further into the shallows, wandering in and out of tidal eddies and small surf carved pools. He makes note of the monochromatic blue that has overcome the world and more than once he turns his head up to admire Luna. He watches the gathering crowd at a distance and smiles at the voices he recognizes over the water. He turns a seashell over with one toe and considers its worth before making his way to the rocks. He steps up to a sizeable stone and steps aboard the black surface. He surveys the cove, treelines and the lagoon. He makes note of those ships off shore, barely seen in outline. Only their watch lamps blinking. He considers the tin whistle in his coat, but chooses to hum and lay there upon the rocks. He smiles to himself at the not unwelcome heat of the day still contained in the rocks. He is glad that the night air has not leached it all out of them. He dozes once, twice and then three times. A sound both alien and familiar comes inland then. A whale has chosen to sing and no one can prefer sleep to that symphony. No one. He enjoys it undisturbed except for those laughs which carry from the beach. And since these bother him not at all, he drinks and hums. Aye. Drinks and hums.

If ye had a giant slingshot ye would just shoot yer eye out. Aye. Take a long hard look at me avatar. (turns away with a tear in 'is eye) Kidding. More rum!

AVAST! Ye be a newbie Moon! I need to run and get me rum from ye. Aye! More rum! (runs to initiations tripping over Redd)

If you mean "Christine" then that depends on what she said. Aye. If she said that I be ruggedly handsome, wise beyond my years, witty to the point of Nirvana and good at serving drinks in the rigging, then Aye. It be me she was talking about. Aye. But if she said that I be a drunken fool with delusions of granduer and an oversteppin' knave with few if any morals and a weakness for the ladies with a tendency to speak in long unendin' sentences that prattle on about nothin' but me own good graces which are themselves lies an' tall tales, then aye. She was also talking about me. Aye. I be a pirate stem to stern. Aye.

I leave for a week and suddenly the place turns into a Vegas night club on the wrong end of the strip. Aye. Or the right end...Aye. Maybe I'll sell tickets.

Put a lass in a billowy shirt and she be wearin' enough to capture me attention. Aye.

When I do, I can hear the Universe. Aye. All of creation.

The rattle of coin, a good diddy of music and a dance. Ahhhhh... Now if only I were near the sea.

The tip hat be empty!! What must a gent do to get a piece of eight around here!? (dances about the table)

Somebody get me a table and a bagpipe player!!

(takes off hat and puts it out for tips) I'll keep me thia silk headscarf on....aye.

(Waits for the stripping music to begin from the violin player)

I want this boat. Aye. I really want this boat. I have to go rob a bank now.

Must have new coat....

Eh...?

I need to get out of this party before I forget how to carry out a raid or scutt'lin' Aye.

I don't look half bad....um...I mean. Who's responsible!?

I need another costume.

Arrrrrr! The more the merrier. Aye.

Aye. Aye, indeed.

(wakes up and goes to the mirror) What...the...?

ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzz.....zzzzzzzzzz....whazzz.zzzzz.... (Dreams of pillaging)

(laughs) I suppose. Aye

It would be thin braids indeed. The redhair is finally abandoning ship in droves. Like rats! Damn traitorous hair.

Meaty Center of a lass sandwich... Aye.