Blue Marble Island

It was cold on the ferry. I climbed the steep staircase and followed the sun outside. Ocean waves moved in slow motion against the gusts of wind that whipped my hair back and forth. The sound of the wind negated the sound of breaking waves. The ocean was the colour of blue marble; white veins streaked its surface.

I stared down at the livestock in transit, transported from the island to live out their happily-ever-after lives in an abattoir. Cows and sheep were all lined up in two separate pens. Some of the cows looked up with wide eyes, knowing what awaited them. Sheep bleated and shuffled; one tried to jump over another. The salty air was charged with nervous energy. The momentary revelation that death was coming for these furry souls brought on an uneasiness that settled in my gut and made me retch.

Clouds gathered over the mainland, projecting shadows that left dark green patches over the hills that became clearer as the ferry inched its way across the marble sea. I bowed my head and mouthed “I’m sorry” to the animals and descended downstairs, where all the empty chairs were connected in rows.