Prince Albert's Life-Personal Narrative

The sun is scintillating, just like the day when the bomb strike our ship, Prince Albert as it was headed towards Australia. I could still remember the day when the Japanese suicide rocket bomb crashed our ship with no remorse. The way people around me cringed with panic and anger, fearing one of the aerial torpedo will hit them, jumped off the ship unwillingly with terror in their eyes. Every second mourned the dead. The incident felt as if it were only yesterday. I can still remember when reality struck me as I tried to save that little girl. She was so young; still a child. She died too early. I should've tried to catch hold of her faster.
Every time I play the violin, I could still remember myself drifting through the sea, stepping on oozing mud that reaches up to your knees, like you're wading in quicksand. Walking through the mysterious trees, trekking into the dry, barren land, then into meeting extraordinary women who I never thought I would meet in life. Despite our different ethnicities, through our love for spiritual music we were all able to connect.
Sometimes, I wish it would just go away for the sake of not needing to constantly take the nannies out for walks. Whenever that damn sun is out, I always have to take at least ten nannies out to walk, and listen to their yarns over and over again. I would much prefer to spend my time hiding in the bathrooms just so I can get some peace and quiet away from the reeking smell of old people. Why do they even smell? I mean, I wash their bed sheets, at least three time a month, their clothes nearly every goddamn day, clean up their urine and waste every time they can't go to the toilet. They don't even drink or smoke cigarettes. It's as if when you reach a certain age, the discernible underarm odour just starts take over your body. I hope that will never happen to