Foreign shores by RelaxArt
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Description
Gilles stood on the poop, leaning his mighty hands on the bulwarks, spitting tobacco crumbs into the black water, illuminated by flashes of lightning, and gloomily wondered why captain Herpin had not forgotten him in Saint-Malo. Of course, he didn't know yet that in 3 days he would fall down from bloody diarrhea and in another day his corpse would be lowered into the lead waves of the Atlantic.
