Author's note- I haven't written anything in a while, so I decided to post this one shot.
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Rum
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The man sauntered into the dimly lit tavern. He was clearly a sailor; the way he walked spoke it in volumes, his rhythmic sway seemed not apart from the very sea itself.
He plopped down onto a stool. He grinned at the bar tender gold shining against white in the faint light, the said man returning the gesture. The bartender pulled out a tin mug and filled it with the amber liquid that was the sailor's favorite, for the sailor was a man of habit. He slid the mug over to him, the sailor paying him his due. The bartender then nodded his thanks and slipped off to help another customer.
The sailor took a swig of the liquid. The burning sensation it left did not bother him in the least, instead it seemed the only thing that mattered was the perfect flavor of it in his mouth; his bit of heaven. He strolled casually out the door. He would come back, he did not know when, but it was certain he would return. For Jack Sparrow was a man of habit.
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Short, I know, but I just wanted to practice writing Jack. Also, reviews are very much appreciated thanks.