sail » roman godfrey au

01

Rosalie neglected supper, choosing to nibble at her crackers so that she wouldn't become sick on her first night aboard a sailing ship.

She had heard the halls become busy before dinner, calm during, and become active once more following the meal.

She was aware that the food served would be nothing extravagant or any different from what she ate back in the city on her low budget.

The corridor was silent now, the clock on the wall informing her that it was half past midnight.

She opened her door, locked it, and tried to desperately recall the way back to the outside deck where she could breathe in fresh, salty air.

Eventually she came upon a staircase, praying it led to an open area where she wouldn't feel enclosed and trapped.

These steps seemed to venture on forever, but eventually she could hear the whistling breeze.

Her muscles burned, and her lungs quickly exhaled the stale air offered from within the ships cabin range.

Her first breath of cool, sharp oxygen filled her lungs, and the currents of gusting wind brought about welcomed goosebumps.

There was a painted white rail that lined the perimeter of the ship, ensuring that no accidents would take place aboard the ponderous vessel.

It was silent for the exception of the water parting for the way of the ship, and the noise of whatever kept it moving along.

She sat down, and parted her legs for the pole to sit in between them as an extra measure of safety. Her dress skirts bunched up at her waist but she didn't care. Legs dangled off the edge while her arms came to rest on the second bar of the barrier. She closed her eyes and leant her head on the cool metal, simply heeding the ocean and it's wonders.

x

Roman awoke from his deep sleep. He only intended for a short doze, but he figured it was due as he lost sleep every night.

The red light on the telephone blinked and colored the wall directly behind it for a series brief moments.

He pressed the messages button, and ventured towards the balcony. The cool draft made him aware of just how hot he was from being buried underneath layers of warmth without a fan on.

Darling, are you alright?

He inhaled, and allowed himself a deep breath of refreshing air.

You've missed dinner and I was forced to eat alone. How pathetic. I do hope you're feeling adequate for our day tomorrow. Give me a call. Goodbye, Roman.

His mother was a woman of prestige, reputation and rank. Everything was  a social event, reaffirming her arranged place in society.

He opened his eyes, expecting to peer down the view of a vacant deck.

He saw just that, but with the exception of a mass of thick, unruly hair blowing with the wind, tangling itself around.

The owner of the tangled strands was in a rather perilous situation, being so close the edge. She was still, not doing anything but sitting on the cool metal of the path along the ships exterior. He decided perhaps now was the time to make up for what he had lost with his slumber.

He didn't bother with his blazer or coat, now completely removing his button up. If his mother were to see him now, in only his undershirt, trousers and leather dress shoes, she'd surely have a conniption and refuse him as a child of hers.

The thought prompted him to open his door and walk through the halls, coming upon where he had seen the girl. When he looked to where she last sat, it was deserted.

He peered down the path from where he stood, to the end of the course where you were forced to turn left. That same mass of hair had barely disappeared around the corner.

He was thoroughly intrigued, but chose to remain where he was.

Chasing around mysterious women who break the rules didn't sound alluring at one o'clock in the morning.