The normalizing has begun. Why do I feel like the gangplank has just been pulled up and while gazing at the hole in the hull, I notice the captain stagger by. Drunk. Belligerent. I begin to notice a look of panic on the face of most of the other passengers. I hear fear in their voices.
The crew, most of whom I heard calling for mutiny just moments ago, are now busy jockeying for a seat at his table for dinner tonight. There's no way this bucket will float til dinner!
This is just one of those weird dreams, right? Doesn't even feel real.
Bon voyage.
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