042: mariner

Somewhere on the bay, a fiddler gave the sea the gift of another sorrowful song. Not many were left to remember the days when the docks weren't the ramshackle remnants of salt-eaten wood; not many were left to remember the traffic of boats on the seaway, or the never-ending shuffle of bodies clogging the docks. Most had gone to the sea, long since been received by her restless waters, ferried to the deep by the ghosts of their forebears. The rest had been left ashore, to curse their shipmate's names...their memories kept alive by a fiddler's lament.