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By mid-afternoon the wind did decrease a little thus making the sea much calmer. At dusk, the wind was almost non-existent, judging by the calm condition of the water below. Before it became completely dark, Vincent took the Rumar to a height of well over six thousand feet. Even though it was much colder at that height, he didn't want a repetition of what had happened the previous night. All through the night he did his best to keep the Rumar at that altitude.As soon as it was light enough the following day, he retrieved his map and checked their position by means of the blinking light. As expected, it confirmed that they were now well out over the huge sea. On the map, there were symbols and words here and there and it was written in a strange language that Vincent could not understand. He knew that some of these words were most probably the names given to the sea below them, but he couldn't read any of it since the symbols used in the writing were all new to him. One thing was. Half the books she owned were blurred from the water of the bathtub, and their covers were corrugated like tin from the effect of the steam on their covers.She slipped her arms into the quilted satin fabric of the knee-length pink housecoat, shivering a bit, her big breasts bouncing, at the first coldness of the material against her skin. Then she padded back across the room to the vanity table. She ignored the soggy bowl of breakfast food, but snatched the magazine from the powder-glazed glass top, making a face at her image in the mirror as though her reflection had caught her preparing to read a sexy book. Then, barefoot and adjusting the neckline of her housecoat over her bare breasts, she swished out of the bedroom with its unmade bed and into the morning light streaming through the big living room windows.Her creamy breasts floated like life preservers on the surface of the tepid bath water. She turned a page with her wet fingers, then started, for she realized that for some.
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