One January Morning, Part 3

It was the pirate who washed ashore that forced Morgan’s hand. It was a lady pirate, you see, and the way the Morgan gawked at her did not go unnoticed by the two women who clung to him with fright at this disturbing turn of events. The lady pirate was unclothed, you see, only recognizable as a buccaneer by virtue of the eyepatch she wore and the tricorne she clutched to her breast. And, although he tried to stay his wandering eyes, Morgan could not keep them from drifting, even as he was slapped cross the cheek once by Jennifer and twice by good Elizabeth.

To be continued…


This month, January 2015, I’m telling a story one paragraph per day, inspired by cards from the Writer Emergency Pack. To read the next paragraph a day early, support me on Patreon.