It’s midnight. I’m on the Princess of Scandinavia in the middle of the North Sea between England and Sweden. I'm on the top deck shaking off the two malt whiskeys I drank as I shared a deep conversation with a couple; two schoolteachers from Södertälje whose names have long escaped me.
With no light pollution, it’s as black as night and all the stars are out. More than I have ever seen. I have an epiphany: Only I have seen this exact star filled sky. No one on the entire planet is looking at what I’m looking at. I think of my father whom I lost when I was 12 years old. I muse:
“Meet me amidst the ocean,
Under the Northern sky
To the light of constellations
As our restless souls pass by.”
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