The decks of the Endeavour, above and below, would once have been a bustle of activity. Now there is only silence...a vague and hazy sort of silence, the kind that only seems to be there because it is waiting to be filled.
The same sort of silence permeates the captain's well-appointed cabin -- until three brisk knocks on the cabin door break the dreamy, unnatural quiet.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-08-12 11:05 pm (UTC)The same sort of silence permeates the captain's well-appointed cabin -- until three brisk knocks on the cabin door break the dreamy, unnatural quiet.