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Sport 39: 2011
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Though a typhoon was rumoured towards the equator, our vessel moved sweetly through the East China Sea.
Clouds boiled lazily on the horizon. Cold beer discharged from the coin machines with reassuring heft.
Towards evening, schoolgirls in remnants of uniform stormed the cafeteria.
The corridors hummed with pyjama fever as they laughed and gossiped in their musical tongue.
There was English to practise and photographs to pose for.
Piratical running-lights leered in the gloom.
In my bachelor berth, with its unblinking mirror, I pawed at the ruined elastic of my skin.
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