Short Story: Eric And The Pier.

Eric And The Pier 

by Morgan Murphy.

Eric McGrane stood on the tip of the pier staring contently out across the bay. He leant forward with his entire body pressed against the waist high barrier. The pier was a short walk from his home although the sight was far more beautiful from the end of the pier than from his bedroom window. It was around four thirty on a cold January afternoon and the sun was at its end. The street lights had lit the entire bay, illuminating the crescent of land that faced out to sea. The water so calm it couldn’t be heard. Eric’s hands became cold, he released his grip from the partially rusted railing and dipped his fingers into his pockets. Eric was 32, average height and build. Upon first observation he could come across as a depressive. This was because he usually looked swamped by his emotions. He wore an old brown coat that hung down to his knees. Brown boots and brown corduroy trousers. His hair however was black and kept lengthy on the top but short on the back and sides. At his age he no longer cared much for his appearance and thus clung a thin beard to his face. His sickened eyes covered by old fashioned circular glasses. He scraped into his deep pockets and fingered his wedding ring into his palm. His thoughts turned to his wife, as he rubbed his thumb and index finger around the ring his heart jumped as he was reminded of her beautiful face. He remembered their first interactions with and other. The two of them together. Eric was a teacher, he taught English but his favourite muse was literature. He had spent most of his growing life reading novels and could never stifle his need to digest new stories and immerse himself in lands and cultures he had never seen. He loved to become close with characters and people he had never met and trying to understand how their narration revealed the workings of their minds. He could not understand why these characters and worlds were so much more alive than the life he was living. To his students he was Mr McGrane and to his wife he was just Eric. The sky turned from blue to grey and the water became more unhinged. Darkness moved over the unlimited open sky and it began to fill with clouds. He turned and faced away from the water and looked back towards the land. The trees were touching the sky, each branch black against the pale darkening sky. With one last glance back out to the water Mr McGrane left the pier. He walked along the promenade just up from the water which lay still with ripples that lapped the rocks. The street lamps shone the way in an orange glow that made the sky seem even bluer. The orange and the blue. The contrast of colour made him feel something. Whenever life imitated art he felt the same way he did with thoughts of his wife. Warm.