Free write 1/5/21

The ferryman looked back across the river. Then back at the man in the car, the woman in the passanger seat beside him, the little girl in the back seat of the citroen.

“Not over there, you don’t,” said the ferryman.

“What?” asked the woman. “But doesn’t this ferry lead to Hadsund?”

The ferryman looked away again. But not in the direction of his boat and the other shoreline, but rather up to the clouds. Rain plunked his face. He gave a sharp breath through his nostrils.

“Maybe it would have lead to Hadsund. On a different night, under different stars.”

Now the Englishman sounded a little annoyed. “It’s raining,” he said, pointing up to the sky with a finger.”

“And due to this you do no know what waits on the other side,” said the ferryman. “I am sorry, but you will have to wait until morning, at the very least.

He walked away before the Englishman and woman could protest. He boarded his ferry and went back across the river that didn’t buck or sway, didn’t chop or churn, just continued its slow crawl east, no matter the weather, no matter where it was, the ferryman went. The weather be damned, he thought, the river was as still as glass.


The weeks leading up to my dad’s three-part play was filled with inexplicable noises coming from the basement.

On multiple occasions, Dean and I heard talking, conversing, multiple voices, though nobody had called that day at our door.

Free write 1/4/21

Outside rain came down. It fell in sheets and wind howled about the man’s head, pushing back his hood.

He walked with purpose toward a slow-moving river. A ferry dock was on its bank and in the doc was the smallest ferry. its total capacity was five cars, given their size, and it had no engine or motor but was instead pulled from one side to the other by a winch that pulled a large chain bolted to the hull of the ferry.

The ferryman looked across the river and saw the headlights of a car shimmering through the rain. He sniffed and smelled desert sands and humid air, and knew he’d have to turn them away, no matter who they were.

Still, he climbed the stairs to the cockpit and stepped into the cabin and out of the rain. He pushed the buttons and swiveled the nobs that would release the ferry from the dock and with a grown and buck the ferry began to inch across the slow river, that, despite the wind, had not a ripple upon its surface.

Within minutes he was to the other side.

He walked briskly to the car, noting that its engine was running. It was cold out, there was no doubt of that. When he got to the car, a man rolled down the window.

“How much to cross?” he asked in English.

“No crossings tonight,” said the ferryman.

“What?” asked the Englishman as though he hadn’t heard. “But we have reservations just across the way.” He pointed as though to his accommodations.

Free write 1/3/21

A man sat at a table. He was in a house. Not a large house, but a small one. One with three windows, a brick chimney, and only a single door. The house had a bar style kitchen that functioned on a wood-burning stove, which was also used to heat the place. His bed was in the corner. A table was at the center of the house. This is where the man sat.

He worked with him, a knife in one and a piece of wood in the other. he carved often and made small figurines out of wood and then placed them on his windowsill. There were many there already. The people he carved came from all over the world. Some of them wore gowns like one might have worn to a ball, others wore tunics, like from the medieval ages. Still more wore fatigues of the modern era. No two figurines were alike, and all of them were perfect as if replicated in wood from the real person themselves.

As the man at the table carved a light began to blink, not a light like one set into the ceiling, but rather one protruding from the wall near the front door. This light was yellow and had a little cage around it.

The man got up and pushed a button on the wall near the blinking light. The light went out. He then donned a yellow rain slicker and some galoshes.

He left the house and went into the night.