Disclaimer: nyeah.
A/N: a spur-of-the-moment ficlet. One-shot.
She's still there, you know.
She's faded, though; from time, from the elements. Her face is weathered and cracked from moisture, and it's difficult to read her expression anymore. Once glossy varnish has been replaced with salt and barnacles. What a shame.
Ah, the things we've gone through, me and her; all the battles we've seen, all the going-ons...'course, in anther fifty years or so, she'll be naught but splinters. Splinters and memories; that's all she'll be.
But what a beauty she was when she was new! Mahogany wings spread wide, a subtle, sly smile on her face. Her hair flowing back, eyes turned upward, toward the heavens, toward fate. Looks more than ready to simply soar off, not unlike the dove taking flight in her hand.
Small wonder why we both loved her so; the hope in her face, her arm outstretched, releasing a dove. An emblem of freedom. That's what a ship is, you know.
That's all a ship really is.
A/N: whatcha think? The first person to tell me who they think the narrator is and what he's talking about gets a prize!