the "trip"

I wrote this on the actuall days. Poorly done but itl give you a vague Idea what I didnt get up to.

Day 1:Frig. I hate this place. Everything rattles, vibrates and clanks. Im surprised I haven’t been sea sick yet. The whole ship sways from side to side the whole time. I have stayed out of everyones way mostly, not wanting to start some awckward conversation like ~ “So, your coming on a trip with us?”… “It looks that way doesn’t it. No! Actually, wait, Im not staying, Im going to swim the whole way back when I get bored of this place.”
This is a real introduction I did by mistake ~ “so whats your name?”… “Izak.”… “well, im pleased to meet you.”………..”Good!”… I had conversationalists block.

Day 2: Slept marginally well. Waking every so often. No reception on phone. Sucks, since I don’t have anyone to bug but myself. Fell back into self pitying sleep after breakfast. Woke up0 and realized the enginges had stopped and we were in sight of land and dots of houses. JOY! Reception! When we got into port we go in for a walk around. Note: No matter where you go, theres always a pack of girls, and behind them is always two guys, doing their best to look cool and in control (which they aren’t)… Went to a spooky church place. It looks the sorta place you go to kill innocent ghouls attending AA meetings. Theres even the obligatory dead tree, piles of yellowy dry crackly ;eaves. The pews are the same butt numing ones you find at every church. But these ones have a twist. In the chair back rests are smoothed triangular things, poking out as sort of deviders between people. Most likely they have had problems with people getting cuddly during church (Didn’t stop the two people in they’re twenties in front of me). It also makes a pretty good wake up call for people falling asleep not paying attention to where they’re putting their shoulder blades . I did not experience either of these problems

Day 3: MISSING
Day4: MISSING




Now for the seriel:

The Mangled wreck pulled up to the dock side, squealing and dribbling a nice neat line of petrol behind it. It spurtered, wheezed, gasped, then finaly drew its last breath. Shame really.
Nick Jumped out, radiating cool as if nothing was wrong. Two people walked past, genuinely impressed by the car. They saw a nice newly waxed and polished car and a blond bomb shell sitting coulee in the passenger seat.
Ester was pale faced, her redish hair falling in disarray around her cheecks. She was splattered with blood, her sleeves were soaked. It had congealed and deep crimson, and had started to go crusty.
Nick looked at the people, they see what they want to see. As do all people. Ignoring the ugly details of life.
He flicked a piece of imaginary dust of his new suit and walked over to a man in a wheel chair. The man watched people walk by, staring at the boats pulling in and pulling out, ferrying people onto the outlying islands.

--to be continued.