Michael Dilts
Joined June 2022
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I was sick — sick unto death. My body was suffused with pain as I rocked back and forth on the rolling timbers of the ship. The storm outside produced a deafening and sustained roar and the waves pounded against the hull with a maddening rhythm. I felt the urge to retch, but had not even the energy for that.
By Michael Dilts2 years ago in Fiction
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