This is simply something I did for a writing exercise, but I am thinking of writing a story about it. I would LOVE any suggestions and opinions.
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There stood the pirate galleon Phantom Mist owned by the notorious James Sterling. It stood before me tall and mighty. Its large ivory colored sails flapped full in the wind. The main mast stood high above the ship with many ropes tied to it leading to sails and riggings, and a large black Jolly Roger flag sat atop. The rusty cannons creaked as they were turned my direction. The dark, dangerous ship loomed over me. She had come out of nowhere in complete silence. She was rightly named. Small powder monkeys could be seen running back and to, up and down the decks. The ship made an eerie low groan as her rudder was turned slightly to the south. Dark blue waves lapped against the side of the ship immediately turning to white foam. Just then, Sterling could be seen standing on the fighting deck. The captain was nearly as grand as his ship. His long black hair blew in the sea breeze replacing the powdered white wig formally worn by ship captains. He wore a kingly black robe covered with red and yellow embroidery. A long white strip of lace hung around his neck with two large pistols tied to each end. He leaned on the railing studying our ship for a moment before shouting commands to the crew below. I picked a terrible day to be aboard a navy sloop. The ship let out another terrible groan as she was turned to a strategic spot, all port side cannons facing us. My heart jumped into my throat as I heard the captain yell that one fatal word, “Fire!” I ducked as the three center cannons shot straight into our hull. I could hear the sickening sounds of breaking timber and smell the burning scent of smoke from the cannons. We were retreating, but the wind was not on our side. Our small sails dangled helplessly. I stood aghast at the stern of the ship still staring at the smoking iron cannons. If Sterling planned on looting our ship he would soon be disappointed. We had little cargo on board. The ships great hull stood mocking me. I knew we didn’t match her in speed or power. She let out another mighty groan as she was rammed by a large wave. This time it wasn’t just a groan. It was a war cry. I could hear the gushing sound of our lower decks filling with salt water. I could see Sterling motion to one of the cannon’s men and knew what was coming. Chills shot down my spine as I once again heard the breaking of timber. I fell to the deck and was engulfed by gray cannon smoke. The last things I heard were trampling feet, the shrill order to abandon ship, and Sterling’s deep booming laughter. Everything went black.
