[Open Thread]
The ship is a lovely one - steam billows from its impressively-painted stacks, rising in thick endless puffs into the chilly morning sky. It seems to somehow fuel the surrounding commotion. People of every kind are shoulder to shoulder, both on the dock and the boat. Ticket men stand on boxes to yell out numbers and costs, times and names. Security and trade officers travel around the perimeter in small, careful packs, looking out for anyone appearing just a mite too shifty. Deck hands scramble in seemingly random directions, checking this and that and barking incomprehensible notes to each other. This is too tight, that needs to be refastened... it all gets lost in the cacophony.
And, of course, there are the passengers. While most of them are clutching at each other, trying not to get lost in the push and shove of shoulders and well-polished shoes, a tall gentleman in an understated black bowler seems to be wading through the mob like it was nothing more than a field of grain. Something about his stature convinces people, tacitly, to make way for this man and the younger, not-quite-as-tall gentleman just behind him.
"We are nearly there, sir."
And, of course, there are the passengers. While most of them are clutching at each other, trying not to get lost in the push and shove of shoulders and well-polished shoes, a tall gentleman in an understated black bowler seems to be wading through the mob like it was nothing more than a field of grain. Something about his stature convinces people, tacitly, to make way for this man and the younger, not-quite-as-tall gentleman just behind him.
"We are nearly there, sir."