The water looks so calm it might be plotting something.

The bridge stretched ahead like a thread tying two shores together. Below me, the water rippled with an almost hypnotic rhythm, catching faint glimmers of gold from a sun that seemed hesitant to leave. On one side, trees stood as quiet sentinels; on the other, the harbor bustled softly with docked boats and scattered lights. The air carried a hint of salt and something else—perhaps the scent of stories untold. I leaned against the railing as a lone gull passed overhead, its wings slicing through the thickening dusk as if it had somewhere important to be. And yet here I was, content to linger in this in-between moment where time felt like it had paused just for me.