November 30, 2019
At sea one would expect the overthinking to stop. "I miss your sleep-smell" she writes to her mother. It's Year 2 of her water-life. There are "dry pods" for doing strictly above-ground activities. This waterworld is adapting. She concocts new words and sends them to her father. He's stopped writing back. She continues sending letters for the sake of it. "Did he already forget about me? I can understand if he did," she writes. Her mother responds months later: "I miss your sleep-smell, too. Come home to us. Your father says this heart-distance is unbearable."