Boo there's like a million of you. Sort it out.
Fine I'll start writing a novel.
Sole Lundy-Biscay woke up. It was the normal morning routine, a bowl of cornflakes with ice cold milk followed by a large glass of regulation Plymouth Gin. Nothing better to get you going in the morning. The next thing to do was to log into Fastnet and check for instructions. Nothing again. It'd been five days now. There'd been three or four days without communication but five was definitely a record.
Sole kept on telling himself it was nothing to be worried about, but in reality it was easy to worry. The thoughts of disaster hitting the outside world were always on the edge of his thoughts, and the lack of communication let them creep in, like big giant black evil insect spider like creatures.
They'd been told about this in the compulsory training required for all Solitary Officers, although as Sole reflected, being told about the loneliness and isolation was very different from experiencing it first hand...
Well that's a mess of tenses and perspective.
