Sometimes it is a blessing, having to wait. It is an odd
thing about living on this small, almost forgotten island, the longest waits
for ferry boats seems to be on Sunday mornings. As it happened, the day in
question was Sunday, and there I was, waiting for a boat.
It had been a hectic morning, but I was sitting in the truck
in enforced inactivity, a chance to catch my breath and reflect.
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