Hello, me.
My girlfriends often ask me questions about the names of my ships: Smithwick’s Revenge, Kilkenny’s Wrath, Smoothie’s Fury… I make sure to tell them the full story each and every time, because my ships have more soul in them than Jamyl Sarum and all her battalions of robed sycophants. These names have endured centuries to reach me. I am passing them along to future generations. When a ship is destroyed, the name survives.
So, what exactly do I know about Smithwick & Co? Just a few bare facts: that they were heroes, who defeated sadness in times long gone, with a spiritual dedication that allowed them to reach the state of craic, whatever it was. It is also said that they had the property to make any woman look beautiful. (The catchline is: you don’t need it, honey, you are gorgeous from the very beginning.)
In the hangar, I sometimes watch Effret, the janitor, polishing the iridium-laced letters on the hulls of my ships with his usual meticulousness. I wonder what he thinks about the fact that this name will probably survive him.
But he might survive me.
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