Rehearsing in his mind the immediate thought which sprang there in making such a trip some months ago from exasperation his presence in playwriting utterly useless without a doubt seeing very little interest from producers in his works, forced himself on this adventure purchasing a ticket to a place of little known except for the trip itself lasting two weeks with several stops would somehow propel his inspiration. James viewed all this nearing the top of the gangway. He'd wondered for years never known a time without that sensation present. Demanding. Hungry. Beast like in nature, nothing more than controlled illusion he thought. It's what lead him here. To this very spot all the while allowing him to believe he managed the affairs. The turns. The times to wake or sleep. What to eat and purchase. Whether a film was better than book tonight. All just played lulling him to one specific place and the time in which it all would happen. Since birth. Had others experienced the same he wondered many preoccupied talking with one another, those alone resided simply blank-faced, yet felt something missing and then it appeared before him; there were no children. Teenagers yes, but anything under perhaps that age he could not see. Realizing this he looked more closely below studying the great sea of passengers as he moved further upward, but in searching, he could not distinguish one single child. Had they all been left at home he wondered? Perhaps they had already boarded allowing mother and child first. ‘I don’t know and none of it makes sense anyway so what’s it to me,’ James whispered softly to himself remembering none of it started well for any of them back then, all quickly twisted ruminants of some tattered sheet hung far too long on a line to dry, faded, an only companion for it’s growing tears ripping gently all those seemingly connected yet far away from that sense of reason held so reverent, illuminating truth with falsehood, an archaic mantle laid gracefully over the entire story where again, only lies gave perception. Recognition was a powerful thing James knew, probably the most if what it carries changes something so great, so vast as your own soul. ‘There are moments words have no right to play with,’ the voice echoed not just in his mind but somewhere deep. Someplace yet tapped, unknown maybe, or misused which led to its abandonment, as once things of this nature are in such a demise, what remains only in ruins, when suddenly the scream comes from that depth reserved where only the greatest of all darkness resides, ‘HELP THEM!!’ crashing into him, pulling his attention to where others gasping with shock pointed below at what took shape with those still waiting to board the ship.