Darling,
We were two weeks from Southampton when a rogue wave capsized our ship. Brooks and I escaped in a lifeboat with neither food nor water. Adrift for days, roasting in the heat. The oppressive silence was broken only by the rumble of our empty stomachs.
We drew cards to assign two equally abominable fates. I shuffled the deck; Brooks cut. An eight.
I cut a three.
I neither won nor lost.
Brooks promised to deliver this letter if rescued. Pay him no grudge, darling, for I don’t. All sailors know and abide by this custom.
All my love,
Richard