rosewade
“…Stephen peered up from the microscope and muttered something about the ‘iridescent patches on the belly of a Sceloporous.’ As always, I endured to show my appreciation for his enthusiasm for his latest discovery. Fortunately Stephen was always forgiving about my attention being taken by my enthusiasm for the sound of the waves that crashed against the hull of my ship.”
“…bronzed golden by the sun, her body was round and firm, as supple as I’ve ever seen. Her lush, ample bosom was pressed high by her corseted gown, as was the costume of the day. Though lovely, the temptation of her only called upon the longing for my own dear wife.”
A smile touched his lips as the memory played out on paper. "With the mirth of a child with a new toy, Stephen hoisted the octopus and claimed it to be edible. In the end, not pleasing to the palate, but quite the adventure. How does one eat a creature with suckers that won't release the plate?"
He turned at the sound of his darling wife setting down a tray of tea and biscuits. He pressed a kiss to her lips then took his seat at the aged desk. Once again putting pen to paper, he continued his memoirs. "Seven weeks sailing and they happened in darkness on our exact position..."
The telescope rested quietly under a glass case now. It had outlived it's usefulness. Much like it's owner. Still ruggedly handsome, the gentleman's peered out over the sea. His long blonde hair, once tied with a black ribbon, now cropped short and as pale white as the sails that once adorned his beloved ship.
writing since 2010 · 5 entries · 5 days shown up
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stephennowpeeredshipsoundwifepressedlipspaperenthusiasmtelescoperestedquietlyglasscaseoutlived