Ferry

Every day for ten years he ran the ferry back and forth across the lake. It was a calm job, mostly besides the occasional irate businessman in a fancy convertible complaining about the other ferry-goers being packed in too close to his “baby”.

Usually, his morning began without much interruption, the same lot coming through for work on weekdays. He went round taking payment for the ride nodding and checking in on his regulars.

He loved seeing the children on their first trips, their excitement and awe. The morning was crisp. The lake sparkled in the rising sun, crystals of white twinkling like stars on the subtle wakes. The trees had begun to change bringing in the new pallet of fall colors painting the leaves.

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