He couldn’t see the coast. He knew it was close but he had no visual gauge of distance, or time for that matter. He needed to find the harbor soon.
She looked out over the water. She could barely see the lights, but they were bobbing wildly not headed towards her. She began to cry silently, staring out at the lost shape.
The tower stood still, holding the mysteries of that night. Some ales say it whispers of death and tears, others reunification. The mystery shall live on.
I really enjoy these! Pure genius!