We stood on the stern of the ferry, watching the grey coast grow thinner and thinner, becoming little more than a line separating the sea from the sky. It was our way of saying goodbye.
"That's it. For another year, at least," I said. Together, we turned away and headed for the hatch that would take us below decks. A break in the clouds let the sun through, blinding us. Instinctively I turned back and caught a glimpse of patchwork green hills and wine-dark sea.
"Typical. Just as we're going," my daughter said.
We raised our fingers in a final farewell salute.
YOU ARE READING
Lost for Words
Short StoryAnother volume of short stories from the Weekend Write-In.
