Bird Watching

Former commodore James Norrington sat in a bar in Tortuga, gazing at the bottom of his bottle of rum. He was thinking about whether he should order another drink or not, but also about birds.

Two types of birds, in fact: a Swann and a Sparrow.

They had a lot of things in common, these two birds. Never satisfied with what they had, always wanting something more and always struggling to be free.

Free. What a word. Freedom from the law or freedom from a society in which one must always do as is expected of them. Either way, that's what they wanted to be, these birds.

It was difficult to say which one he lost first. Some would say the Swann, others the Sparrow, or would have said, anyway. No one here gave a thought about James, or what he used to be. Now he was just one of them.

But there was one thing that everyone would agree on. It had all started with the Sparrow. That was for sure. He glided into Port Royal one day, and that's when everything started to go bad, especially for James.

He hated him with all his being, all his heart. To him, Sparrow equaled redemption. If he could just catch Sparrow, he could have his life back. But he had no means in which to accomplish this. He would have to do it with his own two hands.

But the Swann was a creature of beauty, and he found that he could not hate her. She had broken his heart, but not his life. Anyhow, wasn't that was beautiful things were supposed to do? Lure you in, tempt you, and then leave you broken and alone.

He had spent his whole life chasing. He was known as "The Scourge of Pirates" in the Caribbean, for God's sakes! But there were only two things that he couldn't catch: a Swann and a Sparrow. And that had ruined everything.

No longer was he the hunter. He was destined to sit here, as the world goes by, for the rest of his life… destined to be a bird watcher.