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Bill's ship, the Pilar
Wide, flat, endless. The horizon stretched, failed to reach even a smidge of land, as might well there be none, a world devoid of anything but this bowl of ocean, unfathomably deep, the water's surface separating two worlds that couldn't be more different. While below the fish moved in schools and scattered to dodge savage predators, white streaks shot across the sky, jubilant in their ability to defy gravity, screaming their joy into the wind.
One of the seagulls dove down, skirting the cresting waves to pick some prey out of the places where the sky and ocean entwined. While doing so it came close to the one point of interest in the whole scenery of empty ocean, the fishing boat named Pilar. It's scream startled the small cutter's inhabitant.
Bill had dozed off in his folding chair, but now he was awake again. He checked the fishing rods he set up, but there was no bite.
"Och, what a lull. What I'd give fer some excitement. I oughta set sail again, maybe peek into Mock Town for some sellsword work. Or I'll pick up a bounty book. Huntin' some lowlifes might give me some excitement. 'S like fishin' but fer people."
He finished draining the open bottle of now warm beer he had fallen asleep with, and made his way to his mast to hoist the sail gaff. From the roof of his cabin behind the mast he had a great view of the wide horizon and the seagull speckled sky.
@Lamby