On board, champagne glasses continued to clink. Ahead lay a three month world cruise: the ‘Holiday of a Lifetime’ the brochures proudly declared. Excited passengers now swarmed like fevered ants throughout the decks, seeking out ‘cabin’s with balconies’ while discussing times for dining at the Captain’s Grill. A world within a world setting sail from increasingly distant and forgotten shores.
On the Quayside the cleanup crew were already on site. Colourful gangs of discarded confetti roamed amongst the empty luggage trolleys. ‘Goodbye’ and ‘Good Luck’ flags lay in puddles as the wavers headed for home. An eerie silence descended over the now almost deserted berth.
In the water Mr Stevens puffed and panted. The retired college lecturer from the small Suffolk village of Wotheringham-on-the-Wold had sold his prized Bugatti to fund this trip. A trip to see the wonders of the world; a trip to find a Mrs Stevens before it was too late. He had only missed departure by 15 minutes, the ship was only two miles out – he was a good swimmer; he’d make it. Ignoring the whirring blades of the rescue helicopter, and the cries of the lifeboat volunteers, he ploughed on. Nothing was going to take this holiday away from him.
These words form my entry into this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge.