Through the distant haze of sweltering heat, the blurry outline of a boat appeared. Cyrus had seen the craft in a recurring dream almost nightly since his diagnosis. Each night he would watch as the boat passed him, floating down his consciousness stream—but he wasn’t sleeping now.
Fear gripped him as the hauntingly languid procession approached. Unlike his dreams, the ferry turned toward Cyrus. He looked around in fugue-confusion, unaware of where he was. Impulsively, Cyrus reached in his pocket and discovered two coins. The boat knocked against the dock, beckoning him. Instinctively, Cyrus paid his debt and boarded.
Word Count: 100
photo copyright – Georgia Koch
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