Dear Freddy
How are you?
I know you’ll never be able to experience the sea like I will. So I’ll feel the waves for you.
I arrived a day early, and I was thoroughly surprised. The atmosphere was… different. No trees. No grass. Instead, smoke and oil. Flame, crackling flames with the bash of waves — and with the “thump thump thump” of scurrying feet. I strayed from the crowds, zig-zagging through groups of street urchins. I stayed on the top floor of this quaint little place called “Hotel Fernando”. The view dropped, like a pit. I’d never want to live in a place like this, but I’d wish for you to see something as great as the contrast between land and sea. The ship powered in during the first cries of dawn, steam expelled from its top. A large crowd seemed to gravitate toward it. I watched from afar. The boarding process was easier than I’d imagined. Simply slipping through the lines. From the deck, you could almost feel the waves within you, sloshing around. I tried to picture what your face could’ve been like. Pure happiness would gleam across you, and I would be happy too. I’ll be back soon, okay. Remember me if you can.