There’s a boat leaving in the wee hours of the night and I plan to be in it……walking on the wharf I spot the vessel and walk the plank…..rising and falling with its sway……the Captain motions his hand and I am cleared for passage. I am a known stowaway and I earn my keep by laying low in my usual place in the rear belly of the beast. I am occasionally called to duty if the weather turns and another hand is appreciated. I am an old sailor and the call of the wind and water own me. My past has earned me respect and a passport to the world. Foreign lands can offer rewards to a few smart coins placed in the right hands……and I know those hands and they know mine. The bounty is shared with the captain with a few bottles of  Island Rum, works like a charm to secure passage back to the mainland.
The sun is struggling to rise and I am off to the hole…….the ropes thrash against the hull as they are retrieved and I am nestled in a hammock that smells like sweat and the sea. The sea never leaves a man, a man leaves the sea.

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The alarm clocks frets and I race to dress and grab a bagel on my way to the train. Nodding to familiar faces I launch to a seat by a window…..and laugh revisiting my escapades on the good ship “Merryweather”………

Wondering where my dreams will land me tonight…….

ttucro