The Proxima's Passage

Day 21, Why? This is wrong. It's totally wrong. It's impossible. What’s wrong with you, Sky? No, it's not possible. I'm still drunk from yesterday. The booze of survival were well deserved. It is the only explanation. Or it's just another projection of my dreams. Just another intertwining with the reality of my destroyed mind. I have to write what I'm seeing, or I will not remember. But why am I imagining two moons! What does this say of my obscure mind? I see them there, reflected perfectly on the sea in front of me: one is more or less like the Moon but definitely bluer, as if it were covered entirely with blue glass; and the other ... a bright golf ball in the sky. A luminous ruby. A beating heart in the night. Something that should not exist ... I have to wake up. Why can’t I wake up? What is going on? I cannot understand! Why do I see two moons! I do not understand! And the sea is covered

Day 20, I’m alive. I don’t know how or why, but I am. The storm several days ago was like a war. Of me and Lys versus the sea. The ruthless winds bombarded me, mercilessly. The ferocious waves assaulted the boat with fury. The whole ocean howled for hours without respite. The sky was torn apart by thunder and lightning, exuding flashes of bloody light. Still, the eternal darkness was always lurking, grinning. Is it possible that all the hatred and anger I carry inside my soul suddenly poured into the ocean? I chased your bloody light. Your wounds, your light. But I collapsed. I was exhausted, and I left the waves and the boat to fight instead of me.  Destiny has decided in my place. And I got lost. I kept Timo, the spruce bunny, very close to me the whole time. I needed courage. I would have died without Lys. As I have without you. But I'm still here. We have won. This boat danced a dangerous ta

Day 14, My memories, my dreams, my feelings, are like falling stars: I can scarcely perceive them before they fade away. "... Stop! Listen to my voice! ..." "Stop!!!" "... please, listen to me! Do not do it! ..." "NOOOOO" "Help me! I beg you ... " “Someone call an ambulance!!!" "... Stay with ... STAY WITH ME! ..." "SOMEONE HELP ME!" "... Towels , hurry... We need ... the bleeding ..." "... why have you ..., WHY ARE... DOING ..." "... stay ... me..." "Do not leave me now."                                               The nebulous faces. The dark rumble of voices. The frantic gestures. The anguished screams. Your tears. Then, suddenly, it’s all gone again. And, as always, I have only a pile of smoking, blackened  sensations. All that remains is the darkness, the confusion, the cold. The questions. Your warm tears. They still r

Day 10, “I will leave a light on for you. Don’t get lost. Find your way back.” Your last words. Distant. A dream already forgotten. I promised you I would follow it, that damned light. And that’s how I broke my first promise. I’m lost. I’ve always been lost. But you’ve always known it. And you’ve always been there. Unlike me. The fog is like a smoky serpent. Suddenly it appears and envelops me in its deadly grip. Taking away my sight. Forcing me to drop anchor. Preventing me from continuing. Forcing me to abandon myself. But it leaves me with one thing, the only thing that abounds in this boat: The wait. The memories, the thoughts, the voices. They flock, overlap, repeat and contradict themselves in this endless waiting. So deafening, yet faded. As if they belong to a remote past. As if they do not belong to me anymore. Then, as if nothing ever happened, suddenly, the serpent dissolves. Leaving me to contemplate the greyness of the s

Day 6, I am alone. It’s almost a week that I’ve spent on the sea and I’m starting to miss human contact. I miss the pleasant warmth of the varied humanity of Titran’s fishermen. The smell of salted and smoked meat, and the heat after a nice sip of Akevitt. The dazzling smile of the tavern’s owner. Now there is only the water; an endless expanse of dark water. For days now, not even the white light of the Sletringen lighthouse has peeked out in the distance. I am alone. The cold is intense here, and the vast blackness of the eternal polar night is unbearable. Like an eternal twilight. But I deserve that. It is right that I should suffer. The Nordlys is a wonderful boat; the nicest fishing boat I’ve ever seen. It was designed for a crew of six men, but I haven’t asked anyone to join me. I have to serve my punishment. Lys cleaves the darkness in silence, almost as if she is floating, gracefully. She is my only friend at the moment. Now after a week