“Come, curse with me. We’ve but moments.”

It was morning and the sea had come to collect them into its churning angry black marble expanse. No contrivances of faith in the face of the end for men of the sea. It was unbecoming.

“Mother, oh that bitch. Her livestock face was matched only by her appetite for dykes with a penchant for wearing burlap, and coarse sodomy. When his holiness took her from this world, nobody made a point of mentioning he was a fucker for bringing her into it.”

Cecil grabbed a post as the ship slammed into another wave. Another one of these and it’d abruptly conclude.

“You know, for the little you’ve mentioned her, it seems you’ve never went into any one wrong she’d done to the world.”

Sven put his head in his hands as the wood of the ship shuddered and splintered, as the creaks echoed throughout the room.

“The ugliness of it, really. Gallivanting about like a spastic, couldn’t stand it. I’m not a hateful man. Haven’t met enough people to fully grasp hate. I just hate her.”