Almeda

I swear today I saw Almeda, speared through the chest with a timber, same as I witnessed him thrown overboard six days ago. There he was—pale, water-bloated, hissing, incoherent, and yet the same Almeda I shared mess with. I fled from his ghastly visage as he swiped at me with hands decaying. I do not know what shore we have encountered, but it is not the promised land of our dreams. Only purgatory, only a promise of unholy punishment. Joan Caron Cartwright to the Capital Survey Expedition Survivor of the wrecked ship “Mere Courage”