Gemotions

The salt spray stung Ben’s face as he leaned against the railing, watching the ferry disappear into the fog. He’d driven Michael to the dock a few hours ago. He’d watched his best friend climb aboard, suitcase in hand, bound for Boston. Ben felt a lightness in his chest, an almost giddy energy.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled deeply. The familiar bite of nicotine was even more intense. He’d be free. Free to pursue his own passions, unburdened by the constant demands on his time. Free to build his own life. The air tasted clearer, the harbor seemed brighter.