Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
I think I met this Swiss couple about 4 years ago now. I still remember them well. I wonder why that is–how do some people persist your memory and others never make a dent?
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. And as the boat floats away, slowly at first, the two men left on the shore in Trogir pay their regards to our journey by resting their hands on their hips and staring. No nod of the head, no wave of the arm, though one did smile broadly around his cigarette.
The water in Croatia is the sort in stories for children. Mermaids and talking fish seem likely. As we pick…
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