The Siren's Call
Will you answer the siren's call?
He sat in the front of his ship, fiddling with the teal flower between his fingers, rubbing the petals as the movements of the sea rocked him from side to side. He felt the salty air burn his nostrils as he contemplated the horizon; not another soul in sight, he thought, no one would find him, not in months, probably. It was about to be night, he remarked, which signaled him it was time to go. His ship was already anchore...