Jo huddled more snuggly into her blanket, seeking comfort in the familiar coarse wool but knowing that solace was fleeting. Soon, the familiar scent of home would disappear altogether, the life she left behind fading along with it.
“Jo!” A slither of sunlight pierced the damp darkness of the ship’s hold as the hatch was opened from the main deck. “Jo! Jo! JO! Do not play games. Answer me at once.”
Jo merely scooted farther away from the ever widening circle of light, shuffling until her back hit against one of the hundreds of barrels stored in the cargo hold. She caught a glimpse of azure sky dotted with fluffy white clouds before her father’s lower half obscured the opening. As his leather-shod feet touched upon the top rung of the ladder which led to the ship’s bowels (and her hideaway), an excited shout rang out.
Jo froze. Less than two months was all it took for England to disappear from her life. Just last night, she and her father had calculated the days of travel they’d endured, unsure of how many more. Today, 27 October 1682, the answer was clear: zero. And Jo was scared.
Response to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday: Time and Place
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