*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1400031-The-Crossing
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Karen
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Adult · #1400031
Tessa boards a ferry and crosses over into unchartered territory.
Originally a Flash Fiction Contest entry, this is a revised version with a higher word count - and a revised ending.

The Crossing

Tessa skid to a stop, almost running the front wheel of her bicycle up the leg of a man waiting to board the ferry. Mumbling a quick sorry, she slid off the bike and wiped the rain from her eyes. Glancing around at the dozen or so people gathered at the dock, she didn't see anyone she knew and sighed in relief.

The line began to move and Tessa followed, pushing her bike across the ramp and forward to the bow of the boat. The rain was slackening but the dark water was choppy and the wind blew in cold gusts. Even the gulls, normally squawking witnesses at each river crossing, had decided to sit this one out. Tessa was relieved to see the other passengers head inside to the relative warmth of the snack bar. She leaned her bike against the rail and slumped down on a wet bench, pulling the hood of her jacket even further over her head. The ferry’s horn sounded three short blasts, signaling their departure.

It was still lightly raining a half hour later when the ferry pulled up to the opposite landing. Tessa hung back until everyone had disembarked, then pushed the bike up the ramp to the road. She pedaled across the street, turning into an alley lined with overflowing garbage cans. She swerved once to avoid a mangy yellow cat who darted out from behind a dumpster. Halfway down the alley, Tessa pulled up at a door, decorated with a crudely painted rainbow. Leaning the bike against the building, she nervously ran her fingers through her wet hair and went inside.

The dingy hallway smelled of fried onions, stale beer, and urine. Holding her breath, Tessa walked quickly down the hall and into the dark bar, the mirrored ball over the dance floor still and the jukebox silent. The bartender sat on a stool in the corner reading a battered paperback. Picking her way through the scattered tables, Tessa saw her waiting in a corner booth. She surreptitiously slipped off her wedding band and smiled at her.
© Copyright 2008 Karen (sadiebug at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1400031-The-Crossing