6:44 am

One hour left.

Now that we're so far away from civilization, I wonder how's everybody doing and what they're doing. Whatever. From the left window, I can see a blue strip barely noticeable from the sky bounded by another strip, sand. The sound of the waves beating the shore can't be my imagination. She must hear it too. Even just now, she raised her head, and first time today, she looked at the sky. I opened the windows a bit; she must smell the salt too now. Even if she doesn't see it, she knows it's the sea in the horizon. Even if she were paralyzed and as catatonic as yesterday, she'd know that it's the sea in the horizon. Even if all her senses were gone, she'd know it.

"The sea extends the infinite blue of the sky," she knows it.