Maleprotagoinst Stories

I don't remember what sunk us; I think it was a storm. I don't remember my name, or where I came from, or where I was going, or what I was doing. And nobody knows that I exist. Not even the others who sank with our ship. But I remember her red dress and my attachment to her... or... some kind of attachment to her. Or a longing for her. I don't know how to describe it. But let me try to explain. Cover by @-psychoo