The boat has been at sea the whole day; it is gray outside and looking like it will rain tonight. Fog is starting to form in the air. I hope the sailors will be sensible and dock at some nearby port before it gets too dark. I am not sure what time it is as the sun is hidden by dark clouds. I awakened some hours ago in a very cramped state underneath a sheep skin that I had taken from what once was my house. I thought about Florence to keep my mind off of the sickly rocking of the ship. Florence is where the best of the ‘Rebirth’ is taking place. Everyone, even the peasants and commoners, are allowed to create art and talk more freely with each other than they did in the Dark Ages. I thought excitedly about the beautiful Cathedrals and Villas built with such love and care, unlike my home of Nuremberg. Most of the art and architecture in Florence is inspired by the early Greek and Roman periods. I was startled from my trance-like state by a sailor above on the deck calling out that it was time to dock. I breathed a sigh of relief, for the skies outside had been getting darker every moment. The fog was starting to get thicker and larger; it rolled over the tops of the waves and crept ever closer to The Germaine. I shivered and drew the lamb skin tighter around me. I opened the satchel full of things I had taken from what once was my Fathers house. I fished out a loaf of bread and a flask of wine, I sipped at it greedily and tore at the bread. I had only eaten a few pieces of nuts and fruit this morning so I was ravenous. I listened to the voices of the sailors in their bunks above. They were saying things such as, “Good thing we docked when we did, look at that fog!”, “Ei, I know it's some of the thickest fog I’ve ever seen in these parts, and I've been alive a fair bit longer than you.”, “I do hope it clears by morning.” and “Ei, it better and if it does it should be smooth sailing to Florence.” My heart leaped at this last comment, I couldn't wait to get off the boat and stretch my legs. I hunkered down in a more comfortable position and let the voices that reverberated down through the wood lull me to sleep with thoughts of Italy. -Astrid Writ this day, 15th of September, 1415 A.D. Aboard ‘The Germaine’
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