Voy #1...

I watch and old couple sitting at a table at the back of the ship. They've been here for at least 3 hours, same as me. He's reading the cruise newspaper called "Reflections", a daily summary of world events widdled down into about 5 pages. I abandon the idea that this man is dumb, as it's hard to believe dumb people can live a life profitable enough to stay afloat on this pricey world cruise...but seriously, 3 hours on 5 pages of summaries? I'm a mediocre reader, but there's got to be an explanation. Something must switch in people as they get older. I imagine his mind, looking down through his spectacles at the paper, sailing through article one, no problem. Article two, world news, his mind glazes over for a moment as he listens to the displacement of water behind the ship. He stares out at the ocean then back to his paper. A few more sentences and drifts into distant memories perhaps having something to do with the article he's on. There's no urgency here. It's a free tangent-and-stop on wherever his mind is wanting. If it's interesting enough, he turns to his wife in hand motions and grunts, speaking in their own private language that has been perfected over time. They both come to agreement, he checks on the progress of her crossword, ashes down a cigarette and returns to his reading. Another half hour of glazed memories.

Oh! to be able to think like that. I can't imagine a mind so full of memories. I wouldn't get anything done either! All my stories floating around like a loosely-connected screenplay with no real ending. I have a hard time allowing myself time to drift, though my mind tends to disrespect my allowances. I snap myself out of unfocused wanderings, finish the article, and move on to the next. There's something in the back demanding efficiency. Fifty years of this and I can only imagine a bitter war developing against this device as I fight to find the switch, turn it off, and listen to the waves.