Dream 6

For days I let my eyes wander without interest along the shoreline on the starboard side of our open galley. It was awash in beautiful colors of flowers and cliffs and villages and vineyards and groves. Often I spotted ruins, evidence of civilized life hundreds and thousands of years gone, with no more interest than I might notice cars driving on the streets below my balcony at home -- all curiosity sucked from me like dirt by a Dyson.

Such was the awful, evil power of Incessa and her noise.

We seven rowers had remained in check since the awful spectacle of Dianna's outburst, Incessa's punishment, and Dianna's subsequent death-by-shark. I could feel the tension mounting around me, and so could Rolando, as I'd come to learn was the drum beater's name. His frantic hurried whispers implored that we make no ruckus against Incessa's noise, and that we learn to ignore it somehow -- as he had apparently done some decades anon.

Easier said than done, it was like fingernails grating on a chalkboard, like being awoken from a wonderful dream by simultaneous beeping of two hundred smoke and CO2 detectors.

My partner to the right, Katie, had been an acquaintance from the YMCA, and now we spoke sometimes in low whispers. She knew no more of how she arrived here than I. She feared she may be the next Dianna. I could see the growing distress on the faces of the captives around me, evidenced by highly raised eyebrows and darting eyes, fast shallow breath. All but one, front row starboard, seemed near a breaking point.

At evening just before our sundown water break I sensed a roar behind me as we pulled. I turned my head in time to see a large waterspout bearing down on our boat. With a movement like a cat the woman rowing behind me stood, stepped upon the stern deck and dove headfirst into the churning spout. Within an instant the waterspout collapsed in upon itself, became a swirling black drain in the water, and then smoothed out into a calm, glassy surface.

Incessa didn't even notice.

...I really don't see any need to expose myself to people who are different from me I don't mean expose myself in the dirty obscene sense I just mean why would I choose to socialize with people who are different from me it's just not proper the right sort of people shall we say don't look beyond their own community I already know how these people are I see it in movies and on the news they live in slums or in Brooklyn why do these people want me to eat their food I have no interest in going ashore here to eat the macaroni when I can get the same thing at Olive Garden I would never eat sushi it looks too weird the proper sort of people agree that it looks weird and that's how I know that the people who eat sushi are not the sort of people shall we say that I would want to expose myself to a foreigner wouldn't recognize the absolute of wearing a black suit as proper corporate attire why would I want to eat foreign food I'm sure the kitchen is very dirty I've never been in one of course but I have a knack for knowing these things ...