Change in Plans

Still dirty. Still sweaty. Still outside this what passes for a Settlement.

Met up with Captain at midnight, as planned, and he told me there was a change in plans.

Three days from now.

That means I have to wait it out three more days. Three more days either back out in the desert, or three more days in one of the Blue Sun labelled crates where who knows what has been. Three days drinkin' from the horse trough. Three days with no food, other than poisoned food bars - and while the idea of sleepin' thru the next few days does appeal to me, I ain't willing to risk not wakin' up or missin my ride out.

Been here almost a week now, I think. Days are soft of melting into one another. Not much goes on in this place. The people that do actually live 'round here either work 'in the deep well' whatever that means, or do 'gardenin' which seems to consist of growing something resembling corn.

Three days. At least food and water are furnished on the ship and I think this Captain is a good guy, so it is likely to be generous. Anything is better than nothing at this point - 'ceptin for poisoned food that is.

Three days. The way we count. Wonder why that phrase came to mind. I'm tired. Must admit I feel a bit dizzy and somewhat lost. Never even made it to the deepest black...now I have to wonder what was in the blood thinners he gave me. Probably water.

Idiot. Him. And Me.