Breakfast, Brothel and RevelationsMature

"So how have things been treating you?" John stirred his cup of tea.

"Same old, same old. Nothing interesting at all."

"Ah, we should have a night out at the brothel again before I'm set to go back to Louisiana." He winked and stabbed the egg on the plate, letting the yolk splutter over his shirt.

"Whens that then?"  I cut my own egg gently, letting my own yolk drip over the plate into the pile of bacon.

"Well that Chinese ship is due to dock in three days and we need to get about twenty crates of tea  and the same of rice over to The Red Admiral as soon as possible. Our new captain likes to run a tight ship." He was furiously rubbing the stains with a damp handkerchief.

"Yeah? Any better than the one we had when I came over here?"

"Yeah I suppose. Although there were a few suicides on ship... just jumped over during the night." He gave up then and just carried on eating.

"That's bad... but I'm sure Satan doesn't mind the extra souls." I shoveled the first piece of bacon in without cutting it.

He almost choked on his food, "Never thought of you as a bible nut."

"I'm not - you should know... I just think those that seek destruction deserve hell."

I was such a hypocrite! I squished the tomato with my fork... trying to to squirt myself. I didn't actually like tomatoes but I liked watching them die. It seemed a bit of a safer hobby when it was snowing... so it'd become a slight habit. I craved for blood though. I wanted to kill. It weighed on my mind like a corpse.

We finished breakfast in relative silence, Leah took our plates away and told us that we should go so she could clean up. I don't think she liked me very much. She was very wary of people, so I have no idea how she'd been persuaded to let out her spare bedroom. I think it was something to do with the black eyes she got and the missing money from her savings jar. Her husband was a drinker, a regular in the brothel I soon found.


John and I decided that tonight we were going to go to the brothel. He'd earned a fair bit in Louisiana in the dockyards because he was always an 'Extra Hand' so he could have  left at anytime.

We went in and ordered two pints of bitter ale. The proprietress looked just as much of a whore as the girls in the lounge. It was rumoured that for special clients she 'aided' the girls. I dreaded knowing... especially after what I soon found out.

The End

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