Fiddlers Green

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Revision as of 16:33, 4 June 2010

The breeze blows steadily from the North East. Your boat, "Fiddlers Green", cuts through the oncoming waves with ease.

With the Sun on your face and sea spray in the air you are happy.

You are two days out from the docks at Bellingham, and not a moment too soon. You swear if you had spent another day behind your desk, dealing with those people, you would have killed yourself. Or at least one of them.

You've sailed these waters near Puget Sound since you were a child and, like now, they've always calmed you.

Across from you in the cockpit is Kirsten. Shes been quite all morning.


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