Crossing the Delaware

Well here are C and I on the ferry across the Delaware Bay on the way to Cape May. The sea is a bit rough, and I hope I don’t get seasick.

We have the incomparable joy of sitting near a foghorn of a female who has been regaling all within her expansive earshot with tales of her dermatological difficulties. I guess her theory, if such a thing is really rattling, lonely, in her crainial void, is that little will enthrall complete strangers more than details of her pustules, volcanic eruptions, and the multicoloured oozy exudates they have produced. Complete with boomed out loud details of her doctor’s scraping, squeezing, and zapping to dry them up.

Possibly a valid hypothesis, but why did she have to test it here and now on us fellow passengers who are innocently trying to hang on to our sanity, hearing, and lunches?

More to come. I must just go and do a little strangulation.

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