The cook took the dead body of the bird, chopped it, boiled it and prepared it for the captain who was strangely sitting in his cabin in silence, with white eyes. Once the cook finished with the preparations he took it personally to the captain’s cabin place it on his desk. The captain ate it like any other food it is. The taste was excellent. The boy sat miserably on deck with the rest of the men, some of them hardly spoke, they were just bedazzled what just had happened. Then all of a sudden, the captain who was silent came out of his cabin in an ecstatic state. "Any of you want that bird’s meat?" the captain said, looking around at his men on the deck. "Not me," the cook said. "I think I'll go down the deck." "Me, too." Another crew said. "I'll best be getting to my work," said another crew member. The captain watched them go. Some of the others excused themselves. "What do you suppos
The Art of Love Society. I write poems for one person.