Wheeling Gull Isle glory

she drank and drank.

bartholomew knew he had made the right choice — and if he had not, then he hoped heaven would smite him.

of course i do. warm, washing. his voice akin to the sea. bartholomew. named in the gaze of God, i have no reason to not wear my name.

he spoke at length often, even if she prattled nonsense or rebuttals.

such was the act of caring.