"I feel we've done this dance before." It was Hanlon, because of course he would be the one person who showed up with a boat to take me home. He also had guards to take Oshujon somewhere (he would not tell me where, apparently he too did not believe the loss of memory).
"Can we leave please I've had enough of clicks and clocks." After I had come back down the mountain the villager I had spoken with before made a call on a radio that he had and Hanlon's ship arrived shortly there after. If I believed in coincidence I would say it was one, but I don't, so I totally think this was somehow a Hanlon plan all along.
"I'm not ready to leave yet, I want to see this tiny little island that has somehow escaped my notice before now, so you'll have to wait. You're frankly lucky I was even in the area Trezlan, not that you would admit that." I would have felt some kind of sympathy for Hanlon if he wasn't being a dick to be a dick, so instead I just went into the cabin to sulk. I didn't drink any, which I think is a step up for me. Well a step somewhere. I've taken up writing really passive aggressive poems that explain my hurt feelings. Like this one.
The only people
Who still believe
Are idiots
Who forgot to grieve
I expect my invitation to every poetry gathering ever soon. Hanlon thankfully didn't want to stick around the island for long, I guess the natives didn't want to buy weapons. Sadly we didn't just return home. No no, because life hates me and just coming home is not something that ever happens.
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