09. Along the piers

I loved wandering along the piers at warm hours. The cargo ships carried exotic names or familiar ones. They would roll to the swell in the canal while, leaning over the rail, the sailors would eye me indifferently

Sometimes, I would go aboard, breathing in with delight the smell of the ship: hot engine oil, kitchen residues, disinfectants, a cocktail more intoxicating than all alcohols in the world. I would imagine impossible escapades to faraway horizons.

But soon, the wailing of the siren would tear myself away from my dreams. It was necessary to go back on land. Then, settled on a crate covered with magical inscriptions, I would look at the crew bustle about. The capstans creaking, the ropes would fall slapping the water. Slowly, the ship would move away from the pier, while the seagulls and cormorants glided about in an interlacing of ropes and cables.