There are still parts of the ship I need to explore, but my weariness has brought me back to my cabin.
I don’t know why I continually return here. Sentimentality, I suppose – it’s no safer here than anywhere else – but at least it’s familiar. The lock has been fixed with the broken end of a bayonet and a few bent nails, and heavier furniture has been rammed up in place in the barricade – it feels almost homely, those little touches.
At this point, the routine is more comforting than the reality of the protection, but at least I can fool myself to sleep.