The prompt was: I want you to look at a specific part of your body and tell us a story about it.
My wrists. I once spent a week tied to a man. He was my best friend, only man I ever fully trusted with who I am. We sailed together on the seas. We had run into navy men, French I think, or maybe Spanish. At the time, it was not a language I understood at all.
We were captured, because we were too drunk to fight. They tied the two of us together, back to back, with a mast between us.
It was four days until we reached shore. Four days of not being fed more than crumbs. Four days we spent planning.
When we hit shore, they untied us briefly so they could haul us off the ship. The second they untied one hand, we swung around together, knocking down the men nearest us. We ran for the side of the ship and jumped. It took all of our concentration not to trip the other, since we were still tied together at one hand.
From there, our plan failed rather miserably. We could not swim while tied together. I am still not sure how we managed to get as far away from the ship as we did, but we managed to get under the next ship over and came up on the other side.
We got to shore and spent the next three days trying to avoid all signs of civilization while trying to survive with nothing while tied together. You really get to know a man when you are tied to him. I believe the two of us knew nearly everything about each other.
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