Contributor: Joseph Beardsley


“That’s it.” The Captain leaned in, gloved hands coming up against the hull of the unsuspecting airship as his scow pulled up beneath.

“Hear that, lads?” He grinned, showing off a mouth of broken and yellowed teeth. “She’s soft. Not more than three inch, I’d say.” One hand slid down the polished length of the hull as the Captain pressed his ear against the wood, held his breath. “She practically sings money!” His eyes flicked to one of the swarthy, dirty men crouching in the darkness at his boots. “Fetch the drill! We drain this pretty sow tonight and take all we can carry!”