Mother,
I am on a ship, really, I am.
It's just...a little different from what I told you.
I haven't actually been out to sea yet.
The ship is stuck...against a cliff.
I'm guarding a wooden tower for now.
The people who were here before us are piled up outside the door, and part of my job is throwing salt over them.
Brother used to say farm work is ruthlessly hard.
He was right, but this place is worse. I'll come home when the ship is fixed.
Maybe sooner. I'm sorry but I don't have any money to send home.
(The letter ends without a name or a farewell.)
