worldbuilding
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The sand between Smitheβs teeth was insufferable. The old pirate ran his tongue through his mouth attempting to wash away the grainy sensation; yet more wind blew, and more sand filled every crevice of his body. Everything was gritty and dry. The entire crew was covered in it. Tiny grains of sand rubbed together between…
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βI speak to maps. And sometimes they say something back to me. This is not as strange as it sounds, nor is it an unheard of thing. Before maps, the world was limitless. It was maps that gave it shape and made it seem like territory, like something that could be possessed, not just laid…
