New LifeThe cliché “It was a dark and stormy night” doesn’t begin to describe the conditions the night Alexander Solomons died and I became the man you know. It happened in a hurricane—a typhoon, strictly speaking, since we were in the Indian Ocean—and I was a prisoner aboard a sinking pirate ship.
I didn’t conjure the hurricane. I did curse the ship and steal the only seaworthy lifeboat.
From my perilous position in the tiny craft I smiled as the ship went down with all hands, leaving no one to say who I had once been.
©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2016