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12/14/2000

Gary looked down at the white surf being churned up by the ship. He had just thrown his wife overboard. He felt neither malice nor remorse. The thought of doing it had simply wandered across his mind, and he acted upon it.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he turned down the deck. A quick glance around assured him that no one had seen what just transpired. He wandered into the bar and ordered a drink. He drank down the glass, ordered another, and turned his gaze to the crowd. He thought about how stupid they all were. They sat there, thrilled to be talking to each other about absolutely nothing. They spoke simply for the sake of speaking.

"So where's the wifey?" A voice near him inquired. As he turned, he immediately recognized the face smiling at him. It was that of Dolman, a new acquaintance.

"I threw her overboard. She wouldn't stop talking," he responded with a smirk.

"God, how many times have I found myself thinking like that? Sometimes mine seems to talk only to make noise," Dolman laughed.

Gary nodded at the comment and drank down his second glass. His gaze returned to the crowd. Dolman fidgeted uncomfortably.

"So, I was wondering," he finally ventured, "Would you and your wife like to meet us for breakfast tomorrow?"

Gary turned, hesitated for a moment, then punched him as hard as he could in the face. He cackled like a lunatic as Dolmen writhed on the ground.

"You're not listening, I can tell," said a familiar voice. He looked up from the white surf. His wife was just about glaring.

"Sorry, my mind wandered off for a minute there. You were saying something about Pastor Luken?" He attempted to sound genuinely interested. His wife sighed in frustration, then continued to drone on.