September 6th.
Starting to allow myself to realize what little is left: $25, a week, a handful of unsent postcards,and a truckload of memories. Promises of tattoed sparrows when the ship returns. Unanswered questions we try to forget about. Desperate hugs and kisses. No promises. Ever. "See you laters" and fevered dancing and drinking in the galley. All these hopes and dreams.