Non-Fiction Short Stories. Travel, oldsters, love, moments worthy of pause. Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
The covered cabin of the small boat to Split is full by the time I arrive. So I stand with six others on the back platform, holding onto the railing. I’m sure there is a boating term for this area, but I have dubbed it the Tardy Corral.
Yet, from here one can watch the Captain and his compatriots on the dock, unfastening the ropes that hold the boat in place, kicking away the plank everyone used for boarding.