This is really good, he thought. The cake was very light and white, with a just a touch of vanilla. No big fan of vanilla, he thought the flavor overused, he marveled at the crumbly yet tasty texture. And the berry pie, tangy, sweet, red and that buttery crust. Taking another mouthful, he was hungrier than he thought, he looked up.

He was in some kind of lounge, a kind of reception room? It was crowded, with clumps of people among the heavy, leather sofas. Green rugs, and sun light streaming through the curious round windows.

Returning to his treats, he stuffed another forkful into his mouth and looked up again. The room, the lounge, was empty; where did they all go? He noticed the door across the room. Putting down the cake and pie, they looked nice sitting on the back of a leather sofa in the streaming sunlight, he walked to the door. Stepping onto a narrow passageway, he suddenly realized he was on a ship, a really big ship. He moved down the passageway, the doors to the other cabins were closed, save one. Hearing voices and thinking this is where all the people had gone, he stepped into the cabin to find a group of men, unshaven, wearing sailor’s jackets, cigarette smoke, a rough lot by the looks of them.

The men looked at him but they turned back to their cigarettes and their murmuring conversations. Then a small bang and a shudder, followed by long creaking. They looked up. The ship was moving. The men rushed past him, through the door. He turned and stepped back into the passageway but the men were gone, marked only by thin wisps of cigarette smoke.

He hurried down the passageway, no one. Up some stairs, two steps at a time. Down another passageway, Ahh, there was someone, a large man, a sailor, he could help me.

“I need to get off the ship, it’s moving!” The sailor gave a benign smile, a smile of experience and motioned down the hall. Shooting past the sailor, he had to hurry now, the ship was moving faster. He found the cabin, it was full of men, some at desks, all wearing the braid of officers.

He walked up to the closest one and shouted, he didn’t mean to shout, but there you go, “I need to get off the ship!” “Too late, the ship has sailed” came the terse but not unfriendly reply. Suddenly a woman pushed past him, shouting something in German. The officer replied in German. He listened for a moment and looked up to find the room empty.

Walking over to a porthole, he could see the rocky coastline close by. “I know, I’ll wait until I see a log and then jump, grab the log and swim to shore.” But he knew he would never do it. Find a log? Jump from this fast ship? Swim in the icy water?

He knew he was here for the voyage, traveling in this iron womb to somewhere. No clothes, no cabin, no money, no passport, no purpose, no past, no future. Only the present and the endless creaking of the ship.

Finding a chair in the empty room, he sat down and waited.