Day Three Hundred Eighteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The sun shining and the sea mild today. It made it easy for walking about. To that end, we climbed down from the bridge to the deck and skirted the containers to the bow.

Almost too much fresh air in our faces there.  Before we ducked out we did see islands ahead, but not ours. And we saw a porpoise alongside racing the ship, leading several others. We kept them in view on our walk back to the superstructure and the bridge. It was a magnificent sight.

The Captain was present so Elijah stayed to converse with him. I continued to the cabin set apart for quiet contemplation.

I must be getting old. For I had a series of dreams.

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Day Three Hundred Fourteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The Captain has extended to us an open invitation to join him on the bridge any time he is there. (I think he wants to keep an eye on us).

We came on the bridge just after eating, and hovered in the background. The sea anchor was still down as the shore ahead was shrouded in clouds or fog. The Captain looked at us and shook his head.  

Elijah told the Captain he would take care of it and to prepare by weighing anchor.

He sent me to our cabin to retrieve his staff.  

The Captain had us underway by the time I reached Elijah on the bow. He raised the staff and the sun broke through dispelling the clouds.

Day Three Hundred Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Almost too much has happened today for me to write about.

And the sights I was witness to crowd out all else.

The storm clouds have moved on, leaving behind them a new reality.

The great city is no more. Its structures razed down to ground level – and below. The deepest depression appears to be in the area of the administration building. And there is no movement, of man or beast across the landscape. No fires burn and no smoke fills the air above. Silence only spreads its wings, flushing out the sighing of the wind.

Elijah and I returned aft to our cabin in the superstructure of the vessel, as the ship’s engines rumbled the deck beneath our feet.

Day Seventy Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

Came back to the camp very late. Only to find Enough gone.

My fear has come true. I’m kicking myself for my little foray yesterday morning. I should have left a note about my intentions. Though it did not seem plausible at the time that I could be absent more than an hour or so.

I needed to check out the area further away from the village on this side of the river. We should have run into that widow and her son long before now.  I wonder if she has gone on over the mountain.

I spotted two cabins from one of the drones. It was at its limit.  One looked inhabited, so I had to check it out.

Nothing. And I could not go on, knowing that Enough was alone and perhaps concerned for me.

Obviously he was, and he went to find me.

And no note from him either. We’ll have to talk about that.

He should have waited. That’s what I’m going to do.