Shot

Afraid to tell me.

They said that he had been wounded.

Shot.

A chest wound, near the heart.

It should have been simple. Fill the water barrels, return to the ship.

But the gun discharged, the sentries were warned.

Shot. Bleeding his life out on the deck.

We were going to make love when he returned.

We had both looked forward to it.

The privacy of the Captain's Cabin.

A luxury on a ship such as this.

But he lies unconscious.

He may die, the doctor says.

If he dies…if he dies…what then?

Then I shall be the walking dead.

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