ferry from victoria
26 August 1997

You don't even know what day it is.

You sit amongst dozens of people who barely recognize a smile as a gesture of invitation, let alone the only language you know to verbally communicate the idea. You lost your only friend on the lower deck, once the other passengers had cleared and he let you out of the trunk. You desperately want something warm to drink and consider taking the used cup on the table next to you and filling it with the lukewarm water from the bathroom tap. You don't even want to consider the hell you'll go through in order to get a ride from Tsawwassen to Vancouver, but you know you should be seeking out an unattractive single English speaker to target. Your eyes are tired. You don't want to close them for fear that you may lose your satchel, but you no longer want to see the people around you. It is impossible for you to process an linear train of thought. You know the warm water would do you good, but you don't have the strength to make eye contact with the person across from you and use a variety of gestures to persuade him to save your seat. You lean your forehead against the window and try to determine where the pacific ends and the sky begins... and you realize you have never seen so many shades of gray...and you're not sure when tomorrow will arrive.