The pier looks like it’s waiting for someone to propose to the horizon.

The clouds above seemed to carry stories from faraway places, heavy with whispers of distant rain. The pier stretched out like a bridge between the mundane and the infinite, its quiet presence grounding me as my gaze wandered to the fishing boats in the distance. Their masts stood tall against the brooding sky, a silent reminder of lives entwined with these waters. I leaned on the railing, letting the faint scent of saltwater mix with the cool breeze. Somewhere near the treeline across the way, a faint hum of activity hinted at another world I wasn’t yet ready to rejoin.