“Belchiore won’t have me as I stand. I must tell the living before I tell the dead.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Commander…” the King mutters.
“The Monkeys’ health will improve as my story unfolds and especially once I’ve disappeared. You listen to it. What you feel from me is released and absorbed into the general stream of universal directions.”
“If above, below, left and right aren’t quite the trend for now, how could North, South, East and West even be considered?” Labaguette inquires. Upon those words, the Captain seizes the parrot’s beak and ties it with a piece of hair tentacle he snatches from the Commander’s head.
“I had a sister. She had a box,” the Commander begins.
“And?” the King asks.
“Inside were shifty sands and spirited dust with special properties when sniffed.”
“A magic box to sniff from, huh?” the Captain snarls, “come along, Commander, what do you take us for?”
“Just before my sister died, she advised me to sniff some of the sands to enable it and spread a message of peace to Spinostress and her peers. But there were no keys to the box. It could only be opened by rubbing a piece of metal between the fingers of one whose well-wishing intentions are cleansed and protected from evil.”
“I thought you were an orphan. Besides, haven’t you always been alarmingly wicked?” the Captain enquires.
“We all take funny turns in life, Captain, don’t we?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Were you born a pirate?”
“I might have been. There’s nothing wrong in knowing who you are and what you want from life. You can’t judge me.”
To be continued…