At the edge of the world, in the low country of South Carolina, was a bustling port city by the name of Charles Town. And at the end of that city, overlooking the Charles Town harbor and, on a clear day, the Atlantic Ocean, a short walk from the Half-Moon Bastion, was a stately parcel of land referred to by the locals as Oyster Point. And it was here, where the lush, green grass of the lowlands diffused into sand and smooth stone and tumbled into the bluest water a man could ever wish to see, that something unpleasant was occurring.The flowing prose of this pirate yarn continues here.
Next: "Fashionably Late" by Rekha Ambardar
Soon: Matthew Mayo's "Someone to Watch Over Me." Plus, poetry and a graphic story at BEAT to a PULP.