PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
It was the cargo that made him yearn to leave: the scent of sherry seeping through the barrel staves; the woody aroma of tobacco, leaves greasy and fibrous beneath his palms; bananas green as limes, ripening to sweetness snug in their wooden crates.
Through the years he watched the cargo ships come and go, crusted with salt and barnacles, his own feet planted firmly on the dockside.
One day he was gone. Some say he drank too deep and slipped beneath the dun waters. Others liked to imagine a stowaway, a stranger scented with tobacco … and a whiff of sherry.
*The title is a misquote from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s Secret of the Sea.