FERRY-LOVE-BOAT

Chapter 1 - Day 1

Seattle was still damp and cold, like every other winter day, and it is interesting - to say the least - that I like the cold so much when my history with the winter isn't good at all. I remembered the freezing mornings when I was woken up before sunrise by a cruel biological clock well established since my high school days when I was still running track under my father's training and after all these years, I could still hear his voice saying: don't use the cold as an excuse for your laziness.

I shoved both my hands inside the pockets of the jacket closed all the way up to my chin, kept my head down trying to keep the cold wind from battering my eyes and cooling my lungs too much. The way to the ferry was very familiar to me, it was the path I took on mornings when I wasn't too tired after training at the fire academy and needed some time to think – about life, about decisions that I was making and all the adult stuff people don't usually teach you – and even though it wasn't necessary for me to take the ferry to get around, it was nice to be in an "unnecessary" place for once.

I watched all the people coming and going, most of them were faces that I got to see more than once - they must have been regular transport users, maybe they lived on one side and worked on the other - and I kept imagining the lives they had, it was one of my favorite hobbies - tracing stories for people based on my impressions, the clothes they wore, the suitcases they carried, the wedding bands they wore – because it was an amazing way to get my mind free from my own problems.

Like every time I took the ferry, I went to the small coffee stall and ordered a sugar-free cappuccino after saying a shy "good morning" to the middle-aged woman on the other side of the cash register and as soon as the hot drink warmed me up inside, I gathered all the courage I had and climbed the stairs towards the top floor; it wasn't ideal, but I'd face the cold to get a peek of the landscape that truly attracted me to the unpretentious mornings I had spent on that boat.

The water was choppy and gray, not as beautiful as on sunny summer days, but it brought a different feeling inside me, almost calm in the midst of all the chaos. It was beautiful in its own way.

And there she was.

Much braver than me since she was leaning against the parapet of the ferry, looking down, and I wondered for a second if this was a worrisome case where I would have to act as a first responder before I even got my certificate and stop this elegant tall woman from throwing herself off the boat, but she didn't do anything that could possibly indicate that she was indeed suicidal. She shook her hair, which was whipped by the wind, and with her hands she closed the thick brown overcoat she had on over her clothes, seeking warmth, then turned her face to the side and I saw the profile of her face - I caught myself staring at the perfect curve of her upturned nose, and the delicate design of her lips - as I wondered what color her eyes were, not knowing the answer bothered me more than I would have liked.

I drank some more of my drink and continued to watch her, there were not many people around us, one or two brave souls who were also trying to be brave against this cutting wind that was an aggression against our faces, but I just couldn't take my eyes off the woman in front of me, and after a few seconds watching this stranger that I hadn't seen around here yet, the mysterious woman turned around and I could see that brown was the color of her eyes, but not an ordinary brown, it was a bright brownish color that made people warm just by looking at them. She walked towards me, and I was strangely nervous.

Did she realize that I was staring at her?

But without even looking a second time in my direction she walked past me and back into the warmer part of the ferry, where she could protect herself from the cold, and I had to try very hard not to just turn on my heels to follow her. Well, I didn't follow her, but I did turn on my heels to see her walk over to one of the benches and sit down still clutching the fabric that was wrapping her and crossing her elegant long legs.

I drank more of the coffee, and then another sip, and another, and another. I was nervous, anxious, I wanted to approach her and make conversation, to introduce myself and know her name, to compliment her beauty, to tell her that she wasn't comparable to any other women we could randomly cross paths with on a ferry, but I couldn't do that, right? It was too weird. So, I just stared at her whenever she was distracted and when I knew I wouldn't be caught by her gaze – so much for trying not to be a weirdo, right?

You're a coward, Maya.

I know, I know.

This debate was pointless and unproductive, but my thoughts continued to torture me as I walked back to my apartment after making my round trip on the ferry that morning.