Author: Laura H
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns all
Author's note: 100 words that appeared from nowhere a few nights ago. Set during Dead Man's Chest.
The new day dawned scarlet, grand and glorious in its bloodied warning. In the rigging, the morning watch shifted, eager to read ruin in the portent. On deck, their captain stared down the flaming sky.
He could read storm fronts in clear azure, knew when the pattern of bird flight foretold tempests, yet possessed no soothsayer’s sight. Such knowledge was governed by science, recounted in tiny print by his tattered tomes.
Let sailor's spit and shuffle at the mark on his palm, he would not yield to superstition.
The horizon reddened. Jack pulled his jar closer and awaited the end.