This morning as I awoke, the song in my head was a haunting and beautiful melody from an operetta film called Les Parapluies de Cherbourg:
Si ça prend une éternité, je vais attendre pour vous
Pour un millier d’étés, je vais attendre pour vous
‘Til vous êtes de retour à côté de moi, jusqu’à ce que je te tiens
Jusqu’à ce que je vous entendre soupirer ici dans mes bras
There is nothing new to report. The winds may be abating slightly, but there is little by way of metrics or instruments to measure them. The climate may be softening as well, or I may merely be adapting. Time will tell. Occasionally there is a fierce burst of wind that jolts and jostles the crate. Were I not somewhat protected within its confines surely I would be knocked over by these sudden gusts.
Little changes in this land. Perhaps I grow accustomed to the cold of this place, but the winds do not seem as biting as they were. The darkness is somehow muted. My eyes still cannot discern anything new yet they have adapted to the dark, as if it were expected for an extended and unnatural length of time. I remain in my makeshift shelter, covered against the cold, huddling for warmth. Occasionally I consume packaged rations and water, just enough to sustain my vital functions.
According to a report by the Aviation Safety Network, which keeps a database of aircraft incidents and accidents, Flight 32 suffered an “uncontained” engine failure six minutes after take-off from Singapore, which it said caused “substantial” damage to the plane. An uncontained engine failure is an extremely rare type of incident where components detach and fly off the main engine housing — often with explosive force.
via After Engine Failure, Qantas Grounds A380 Fleet - NYTimes.com.
I continue in eternal exile. The landscape does not change, in fact at times the winds blow even colder than I could have imagined. There is no hint at additional light and, in fact, the spans of what little dimness there is seem to grow shorter. The worst may yet be ahead. I drift aimlessly in and out of consciousness, parched, panged with hunger, waiting for a sign.