He took in a deep breath of the fresh salty air. Surrounded by the soft sounds of the ocean, crashing amongst themselves and his ship.
His short black hair flowed threw the soft breeze.
The young sailor held in to his journal on his crossed legs, as he was drawing the beautiful horizon, right where the sun was about to set. One of the reasons why he loved to sail to the ocean. You get the most beautiful views.
He looked up at the sky, seeing all the different colors that were beginning to form.
He looked back down at his journal, finishing the final touches. But then..suddenly he stopped. He looked up to look at the ocean, he got up from his wooden chair, leaning over the egde. He looked to the left and then the right.
Where the hell is that singing coming from?