Seafarer

Chapter 1

The young man ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and tugged at his collar, hoping to dissipate the lump in his throat. The anticipation and anxiety had gotten to him; and he broke down into a nervous sweat. He found composure as he placed his pen to paper.

He scrawled out thoughts on paper, lacking structure or reason. A symphony of blue ink coated the pad, without a purpose; or at least one he could comprehend.

He laid his head back against the counter and felt the cold wood embrace the nape of his neck. A cold breeze blew through the window and struck him directly in the face. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the countertop and struggled to pull himself up. Once standing; he reached for the small brass doorknob and twisted it; opening the door near silently. He crept out of the room into the pitch black.

The garden was filled with blue hydrangeas, deep red roses, and rich lavender plants; none of which could be seen this early in the morning. The sky was filled with a deep void of purple and blue and black.

He stumbled through the garden; and fumbled the gates latch around; throwing it open carelessly.

The salty air pierced his lungs.

The faded sidewalk was crumbling; covering the black street in bits of grey gravel. Coming to a crosswalk, an earthy brown telephone pole stood, littered with missing person signs;

"YOUNG MAN-BROWN HAIR-BROWN EYES
LAST SEEN IN THE PORTSMOUTH AREA"

and

"HAVE YOU SEEN HER?" followed by the blurry image of a generic-looking teenage girl.

All the houses in the area had relatively drab tones; light browns and whites, accompanied by the occasional tinge of yellow or blue.

He maintained his pace until he made it to the marina; where he watched as the boats gently rocked back and forth in their cold, watery cradle.

The night before, the (locally) well-known fishing vessel "Wanderlust" had gone missing. Presumably dragged to the rocky depths along with the crew. He writhed thinking about the incident.

The metal walkway released a short "ca-chunk" as he stepped onto it. The boats rolled in the water, every so often pushing up against the dock; causing the wood to let out a "sigh" of  weariness. The dock split at the bottom of the walkway, one path to the left and the other straight.

Small ripples carried his reflection through the moonlit ocean. He sat down at the edge of the dock and laid back to stare at the vanishing stars above. To the left he could see the Moon falling from the sky into the grasping hands of the mountain below. And to the right; the small light atop the Coast Guard station, blinking in the distance.

He fell asleep on the cool wood.