Their route had taken them along the underside of Cuba, and around its west coast before turning northeast toward Nassau.
The weather was muggy and stifling, punctuated by terrible rain storms. The experience on ship was utterly different when one was soaked to the skin with salt water, weary from the oppressively dense air, and bitten everywhere
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Well written though! ^^
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But when I wrote this scene, it struck me that he would die, and at least from my perspective I'd feel that sense of loss and of a life cut short, even though he was an older man.
Had no idea if it'd work for the reader but apparently it has. Death is tragedy.
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