Poi la nave bianca entra nel porto…

I feel like I’ve spent my life throwing messages in bottles hoping for a ship home and only finding fellow castaways, or ships that sail by, blow their horns in polite greeting, then keep sailing.

At least the fellow castaways are nice, but we can’t do much for each other. And when I say “let’s build a raft and sail away by ourselves!” it falls on deaf ears, or on so few ears that we don’t have enough hands to build the raft, and plans disintegrate before they can even start.

“Get me a good crew and a stout vessel, though, and I could sail around the world,” I say ruefully. If only… if only…

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