It’s such a sensitive spot. Hidden, tucked away from all but the most intimate of perspectives, a convergence of tightly-gathered muscle and nerves awaits.
Part 3 of The Governor’s Wife tales – you can catch up with the other instalments at the links below
Since the storm, the journey has settled back into hazy lassitude. Repairs were made to torn sails, rigging untangled, items which had been flung into corners by the violence of the waves, repositioned in their rightful places. She kept the rope, feigning unconvinced anxiety to the Captain’s blithe assurances of safety. The skies have cleared. There is no more danger.