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Day Three Hundred Sixty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The transfer at sea was an arduous process of delicate maneuvering and careful timing. It required all hands into the wee hours of the morning. I assisted what little I could.  

The warship lent no hands for the simple reason that there was not a single living soul aboard. It was all automated. Robotic.

The guard petitioned to join the warship, but was refused. He watched with longing as it turned south and we again took up our easterly course.

The Captain estimated that we have lost a day and a half, and should have the coast of our next destination in view come late tomorrow.

Both Elijah and I believe we shall cross paths with that robotic warship again.

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About rwoz2

Poet, historian, writer for stage and screen. Responder to Jesus (Romans 5:8)

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