You'll never grow up, he said. Never. The ship. The lost boys. Hook. Tolling in the silence. His eyes were deeply sunk with yellowed rims. Every so often a ticking. The crocodile would snap. Hungry. He sat the man down and took the red creased hankie from his hollow pockets he coverd the man's chest with it and took out his razor sharpe knife. He began to cut.
Dont cut to close he said.
I'll try.
Okay.
When finished he got up. He stood peering over the horizon. We must go South he said. He'll be hiding there I know it.
Are you sure?
Yes
Okay
Okay.
He bought in the sail and gatherd the crew. The boy will be found he said. They went on.
They came across what was thought to be a bird. Look he said. The boy. He flew effortlessly through clouds of mist and fog capturing the eyes of many beneath him. He dived. He ducked. He flew. The man watched in dismay.
Are we going to fire captin?
Yes.
The man lit the fuse and watched it burn down. It fired. The boy swerved and it missed.
Oh christ! he said. He fired again. No good. And again. Still no good. The boy flew off into the dreary dark skies. Not again the man said. I'll get him next time he said. Even if it's the last thing I do.
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