I'm always rummaging through the endless photographs that, if you were to ask me, I would vehemently deny I took.
It's like the camera on my phone takes them itself, you know, the latest upgrade they didn't tell you about, the artificial intelligence.
OK, so it's simply a ferry crossing a wide stretch of water. You ask, why didn't they build a bridge? A good question, and not one I can answer.
But, what does the thought of a ferry conjure up?
It brought to mind the film Jaws, and the summer visitors to the island, or should I say, shark hunting ground.
Here?
Perhaps a little less sinister...or not.
To me, at this point, it suggests the possibility of a get away, depending on what side you're on, mainland, or island. I'm going to say, you're on the island and going back to the mainland.
Running.
The island is like one of those remote places, with one way in and one way out. a place where people go to try and breathe life back into a marriage that's falling apart under the stresses of city life, but it failed.
The problem wasn't the fact you didn't see each other enough, it's just that you had grown to dislike each other, and going into a small isolated situation only made the problem worse.
It was just easier to blame everything else.
But going home, well that's a whole different kettle of fish, because bridges were burned before you left, and going back, well, there was going to be grovelling involved.
Or not.
There's a story here, but not right now. Perhaps in a day or two.
It's late, very late, and I need some sleep ... well, thinking time.
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