June 17th, 2066

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There's a vast, dark cloud on the horizon. Morgan says we won't be able to avoid it, even if we turn around. It'll probably hit us tomorrow. It's so strange, being able to see a storm in that's so far away from me. I'm watching lightning play through the clouds, illuminating the darkness from within. Even now, as the sun sets, the storm continues to rage ominously.

Jess came up to talk, again. She's been spending most of her time with Trent and... well, both of them have a certain smell about them that's not particularly pleasing to me. I would rather they just remained below deck, at this point. Yuck.

Anyway, she gave me something she found: a leatherbound journal. I looked through it and found that it just had a few one-line entries from the boat's owner. They were dull and boring; most of the entries were just unimportant details about the boat or weather.

Jess didn't give me the journal because she thought the contents were entertaining, though. She noticed that I'm nearing the last page in this one and will soon need a new journal to write in. So, I tore out the used pages of her gift, wrote my name inside, and dropped it into my backpack with some pens Jess had found near the little book.

Knowing I won't be running out of paper any time soon removes one worry from my mind, but that storm... that storm worries me a great deal.

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