Dear Trillium.

Dear Trillium. My mind is blank to the time I have been out upon Eternity’s Crossing, or if I was even afloat in that section of ocean when the ship was consumed by the gaping maw of the rapacious waters. Wherever it was, its currents lead me to this desolate rock where time has been set in a state of somnambulism, forever to roam with little to no awareness of its surroundings. Understandable that it stays this way. Imagining anybody who could enjoy an appalling piece of the worlds crust such as this seems implausible at best.